The cold embrace of the winter night send a jolt through me as I flew from the confining reaches of high society. I wasn’t sure what had caused my visceral reaction but the crispness of the air tore straight through me and brought some focus.
I walked through the perfectly manicured gardens. I passed the by the lavender bed that Hugh had had planted for our first anniversary and absentmindedly picked one. I twirled the herb in my hand as I walked, its scent doing little to ease my restlessness. The garden was his pride and joy, while he had yet to actually touch any gardening tools, he had meticulously mapped the garden. It’s geometric patterns signaled to all who came the level of culture and cultivation that we were capable of.
I walked out of the garden down towards the docks and before long, took a sharp turn into the woods. Before walking in, I took off the heels I had worn for the party. The cold and uneven ground was better traversed barefoot, even if it was uncomfortable. I carefully walked through the woods, pushing bare branches out of way and avoiding the mostly dead briars that were threatening my bare feet and dress. Before too long, the woods gave way to a clearing and I found myself enthralled by the cosmic scene above me.
The sky was dark, and the stars shone brightly overhead. As I gazed up at the heavens searching for constellations, I noticed a faint streak of light in the distance. It grew brighter and brighter, until it exploded into a brilliant burst of light that streaked across the sky. Suddenly, there were more streaks of light, all around me. They came from every direction, shooting across the sky like fiery arrows. Some were fast and fleeting, while others lingered in the sky, leaving a long, glowing trail behind them. I didn’t move for many minutes from the awe of the scene.
I wonder if anyone inside had seen the event. I sat down in the meadow, wondering if everyone had left yet or if the stragglers were keeping the party alive. I was sure that Hugh would be looking for me, or would send someone to find me. I very much doubted he would find me here though, my one little spot that truly felt like it belonged to me. None of the fancy jewelry or clothes that Hugh had gotten me felt that way.
My mind began to wander, not focusing on any particular thing. It wasn’t a rare occurrence for me because I never had much to do. We had chefs cooking, maids cleaning, butlers awaiting our every command, and even a head of staff to manage them all. Hugh managed the “business” and I was left to my own devices most days. I had wanted to learn to read, but Hugh had refused to hire someone to tutor me, claiming that there was no point for a woman to read. And just like that, the world of written stories was off limits to me and I was left to my boredom.
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I did have one thing that Hugh didn’t know about. I had never been particularly artistically inclined, so one day out of pure boredom I convinced the butler to spar with me. While everyone in the manor was well aware that doing such a thing would almost surely spell their explosion should Hugh discover it, I think I reminded the old man of his own daughter and he took pity on me. We began to spar in the very clearing that I was sitting in.
We were careful; we had to be. I had come up with a signal to let him know that I wished to spar, and after a couple hours we would meet in the clearing. We had some training swords that the butler had snuck here, and he trained me. I think that my learning was stalled by the fact that Reginald was pulling all his strikes so I would not come back to the house covered in bruises. Despite that, I was a quick learner and it was only a matter of weeks until I began to beat him, and after a couple months I rarely lost to Reginald.
After the tenth time I beat him in a row, Reginald politely asked me if I wanted to continue. I hadn’t really given much thought about what I would do if I started winning, but now that it was here, I wanted to keep going. I asked if he knew anyone that might be able to help me further, any master duelist who could continue my training. He had thought for a little and gave me his word he would do his best to find someone for me to continue with.
Reginald delivered on his promise. Two weeks passed, but then Reginald gave me the news. There was a man that he had knew long ago, in his more youthful adventures, who had grown up to be a tourney addict. There were plenty of men like that in Caelunda; men who grew tired of fighting in the courtroom or in the markets and desired a more visceral, and very well-paying, kind of fighting. A week later, Reginald signaled a meeting to me and I went to the clearing.
Standing in the middle of the clearing was not Reginald, but a man with an electrifying presence and eyes that seemed to peer deep into your soul. It was impossible to guess his age by looking at him, he had a timeless sort of look that could have made him ten or forty years my senior, or anywhere in-between. His expression was playful and light, so much so that I almost missed the scar across his cheek leading up to his eye. He moved his rapier to the side and swept into a deep bow. “Ms. Rossi” he breathed as he rose out of his bow, and began again “I believe you were interested in learning the dance of steel.”