As her best friend and roommate, Ilyana wanted to have the utmost confidence in Tori’s swordsmanship. She’d seen Tori at practice before, as well as seeing her do light sparring, but she hadn’t actually seen Tori in a formal match since Ewan challenged her at the start of their first year. Everything else she knew of Tori’s abilities came from secondhand information, given to her by Ewan, who had witnessed Tori’s last fight against von Dorn.
From what Ewan had said, Tori decimated von Dorn. They all saw the results of the ‘duel’.
However, that was over a year ago. Von Dorn had his ability questioned and seemed to be overcome with an obsessive need to improve.
Ilyana could still remember him sparring with his master. That strange man was too violent and said too many unnecessary things for her taste, but when she considered what she saw, none of that beating - physically or verbally, deterred von Dorn. He rose to his feet, ready to try again.
In a way, it was admirable.
In another, it was frightening. It was clear that afternoon wasn’t the first time von Dorn sparred with his master and if he had been training that way for a while, there was a significant chance that he would have improved.
This wasn’t even taking into consideration the fact that he had spent the summer at the Amber Fortress. Tori told her that Sir Nassaun and the General Marquis were less than pleased with his ability, particularly his endurance.
But that was months ago.
Tori didn’t train like von Dorn did. She was more a casual swordswoman; she wasn’t training for a professional position. It was very much a hobby.
Ilyana couldn’t help but fidget in her seat. JP and Sonia sat across from her, watching her squirm and finally spoke up.
“Stop it,” Sonia said in a firm voice. “You’re making me nervous.”
JP nodded with a hint of worry across his brows. “Next to Ewan, you’d know Tori’s swordsmanship best. If you’re worried about this, then the rest of us have reason to worry.” He moved his hand around to motion towards Henrik, who nodded.
Tori and Ewan left earlier that morning. Sir Nassaun came to pick them up so Tori could get ready at the imperial palace.
Which gave Ilyana another reason to be nervous.
Prince Gideon was in her homeroom, and she saw Prince Piers often; she even had him registered on her comcry along with Sir Nassaun, but she’d never in her life thought she’d see the Emperor and Empress in person.
“I’m fine,” Ilyana said, forcing a bright smile. “Tori will do great! I’m more nervous about going to the Imperial Palace. What if we meet the Emperor and Empress?”
Henrik sighed. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s a match between two students. I’m sure they have better things to do than watch Tori and von Dorn.”
He seemed confident about it, but Ilyana had her doubts. At the very least, she expected the Empress to be present. After all, Tori was the Empress’ best friend’s daughter. If Ilyana were in her place, she would also go to watch her best friend’s child hopefully beat up another student.
“What time is the match supposed to start?” JP asked, shifting awkwardly as he looked out the window. They had reached the Central District and the imperial palace was looming ahead of them.
“Before lunch,” Ilyana told them. “We have some time.”
“Do you think von Dorn’s master will come?” Sonia asked as she glanced out the window. “If he does, do you think he’ll yell at von Dorn during the match?”
“You mean coach him or yell at him if he makes a mistake?” JP looked over at her.
Sonia thought for a moment. “Both.”
Ilyana bit her lower lip. Part of her didn’t want to see that man. She didn’t like the feeling he gave her. She couldn’t help but wonder how desperate von Dorn had to be to get a man like that as his master. Tori said that the imperial family didn’t find him; Hart’s thief merchant friend found him at Hart’s request.
They reached the gates of the palace and, as they were in “plain” imperial carriages, they were allowed in without question. Ilyana leaned towards the window to get a good look at the palace.
“I forgot how big it is.” JP said as he squinted.
“You’ve been here before?” Ilyana asked, never taking her eyes off the sprawling gardens and the white facade that seemed to dwarf them as they passed.
JP nodded. “Our mom is a cook here, remember? Sonia and I came a few times. We haven’t really seen much, though.”
“Just the kitchen area and the grounds around it,” Sonia said. “We’ve also ridden around the trails behind the palace, but they’re not technically part of the imperial palace.”
The carriage pulled up to one of the carriage houses and Henrik crinkled his eyes. “This is nicer than my house.”
Ilyana nodded with agreement. She lived in a large manor house in Gorask, but it didn’t have walls of carved marble with columns.
A footman opened their door and the twins stepped out first, followed by Ilyana and then Henrik.
“Do you all see what I see?” Albert’s voice came from her right and she glanced over. He and Constantine had come out of the second carriage that was behind them, along with Nanny Rey. Constantine didn’t seem too overwhelmed, but then again, he did live in Temple Mountain. Nanny Rey didn’t seem impressed at all.
Nanny Rey must’ve seen some things.... Ilyana thought to herself. A valet met them at the doorway and gave them a small bow of his head.
“Welcome, guests of Lady Guevera. Please follow me and I will take you to the match area in the East Wind garden pavilion,” he said.
Ilyana and Sonia looped arms as they nodded and followed behind him. The four young men followed them with Nanny Rey in the back. Everywhere Ilyana looked, there were expensive pieces of art, painted or tiled walls and ceilings, statues, and gilding. She knew she was rich and grew up with the best her father could give her.
But this was a different level.
She was so busy taking in the corridors of the palace, that she didn’t realize they had reached the garden pavilion. They stepped out of the large doors, and a stone courtyard with a large rectangular patch of dirt in the middle awaited them outside.
Ilyana shook her head. ‘Patch of dirt’ was not good enough to describe it. It was a dirt packed court, likely made especially for sparring. Around it were more manicured plants, with a few trees and shrubs cut into the shape of animals.
There was a white tent over the stone courtyard with a row of two benches on either side of the dirt court in front of it. Under protruding portico, there was a row of imperial knights standing guard on either side. Ilyana couldn’t see who was seated there.
The valet motioned for them to follow him and then to the benches to the left of the portico.
Ilyana and Sonia gave him a small nod of thanks and made their way over. They hadn’t seen any familiar faces yet.
Suddenly, Sonia tensed beside her, taking in a sharp breath, and came to a stop. Ilyana looked over at her and found Sonia’s brown eyes fixed across from them, at the benches on the opposite side of the dirt court. Ilyana followed her gaze and reacted in the same way.
Her arm squeezed Sonia’s as she stood up straight and narrowed her eyes. “Guthry.”
“Hart,” Sonia said in a low voice. JP seemed to notice they were staring and turned. His eyes narrowed.
“Well, it’s not as if it’s a surprise,” he said in a reasonable voice. “They are friends with Prince Gideon and von Dorn.”
“Calm down,” Albert said as he raised his arms and moved in front of her and Sonia. “Just take a seat. We’re not here to fight them.”
“Let Lady Guevera do the fighting for us,” Constantine said as he ushered them down the first row.
“Do you see von Dorn’s master, Ilyana?” JP asked.
Ilyana tore her eyes away from Guthry and Hart. They were alone. There was no sign of an older man waiting. She shook her head.
“Training Commander Reystrom, it’s good to see you again.” A woman’s voice spoke up and as Ilyana sat down, she turned her head. The voice came from the tent, and they hadn’t noticed the beautiful couple seated there, on large, gilded chairs, wearing beautiful robes.
Ilyana nearly choked as she shot back to her feet, pulling Sonia up with her. Sonia looked taken aback, but when she saw the couple who were clearly the Emperor and Empress, she also gasped and grabbed the sides of her riding pants to curtsy.
“I told you that you should’ve worn a dress,” JP hissed in a low voice as he and the others also bowed.
“I didn’t think they’d actually come, and I had riding practice at dawn! You’d know that if you woke up early enough!” Sonia hissed back.
“Don’t fight in front of the imperial couple!” Henrik kept his head bowed as he growled at them.
“Your Majesty Emperor Matthieu-Philippe, Your Majesty Empress Monica, good day,” Nanny Rey gave them a smooth curtsy. “Thank you for arranging this with safety in mind.”
“Of course!” the Empress said as she smiled, regally. “I could not allow either combatant to be injured.”
“Antonia would never speak to her again,” the Emperor said with a slight grin.
“When Piers called for permission, I made sure to check with Toni first,” the Empress said, as if doing so was an accomplishment. “She said that since Tori was the one who requested it, then she would respect her daughter’s wishes. However, all safety protocols are to be put in place.”
Nanny Rey seemed to give a nod of approval before taking a seat. She leaned forward from the second row and tapped the long bench the six of them were bowing in front of.
It was their signal to stand.
Ilyana stood up straight and nervously took her seat.
Across from them, Guthry and Hart were already seated and seemed to be talking, but Ilyana couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“You’re all here!” They turned back to the palace and saw Ewan rushing out, appearing antsy. He noticed the imperial couple at once and bowed before moving towards his friends.
“Ewan, introduce us to your friends,” the Empress said in a smooth voice.
Ilyana looked at Ewan. Did he already know the Empress?
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Ewan moved in front of them and motioned to each of them individually, prompting them to stand. “Constantine Zisos, son of Pope Zisos. Henrik Skuldsen; his father is the merchant guild master. JP and Sonia Vissage.”
“Oh, Chef Marianne’s children,” the Empress said with a nod.
“This is Albert Martin,” Ewan said.
“Letty’s grandson,” another voice said. Ilyana looked past the tent and saw an older couple approaching. This time she recognized them as Prince Emil and Princess Vivian. The older couple gave them a warm smile as they took their seats on some fancy chairs behind the Emperor and Empress. “He looks like George.”
“And the last one is Ilyana?” the Empress asked.
Ilyana held back a little ‘eep’. How did the Empress know about her?
“I was told you are Tori’s best friend,” the Empress said with a smile. “And that the delta village was a combination of your names.”
Ilyana nodded her head vigorously. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
There were two more chairs under the tent, but they were positioned a bit lower and set before the imperial couple. As Ilyana expected, Prince Gideon walked out and after greeting his friends, took a seat in front of his mother.
Fabian came out with him, dressed in padded clothing. There were valets and knights surrounding the dirt court and the valets were holding helmets, while the knights held wooden wasters to give to the combatants.
Ilyana then saw three figures emerge from a door to the side of the court.
Tori had her hair braided and a woven piece of cloth wrapped around her head like a headband to keep hair away from her face. She was wearing identical padded clothing. Ilyana realized that everything must’ve been provided and identical so as to ensure an even match.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Tori saw her friends and waved as Sir Nassaun followed behind her.
“Hi!” Tori beamed and Henrik ran a hand down his face.
“Sometimes, I don’t think she has a concept of danger,” he said.
“She does,” Sonia and JP said at once. JP took a deep breath. “I just don’t think she thinks this is dangerous.”
Prince Piers walked past them, giving them an acknowledging nod. Ilyana heard him tell them softly. “She will be fine.”
Ilyana closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Prince Piers took his seat in front of his father and on the dirt court, Tori and von Dorn were given their helmets. Tori’s movements were smooth as she put on her helmet, but so were von Dorn’s.
Knights checked each combatant before they entered the ring. Tori had a wooden training dagger on her thigh and von Dorn’s was in his boot. They had the same weapons.
Sir Nassaun patted Tori’s helmet and whispered something to her. She stepped back and nodded. As she and von Dorn stepped into the center of the courtyard, Sir Nassaun, the valets, and the imperial knights moved off, to stand at ready beside the battle area.
Ilyana grabbed Sonia and Albert’s hands on either side of her.
She wanted to believe in Tori, but she knew von Dorn had a problem controlling his limits.
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“No serious injuries; he has to take the La Garda exam,” Axton told her before he released her into the court.
Her footsteps were almost unheard as she walked forward on the compacted gravel courtyard. Tori stood to face the imperial family and lifted her waster to her forehead, bowed, and then stood up straight. She then turned towards Fabian and, as much as it felt like a farce, she repeated the motion to give respect to her opponent.
“The rules have been explained to the combatants previously. For the audience, a combatant must get in six hits to be considered the winner of this match,” Axton explained as he faced the imperial family. “They will be allowed to use swords, daggers, and grapple.”
He then stepped back once more.
Tori and Fabian turned around and took three paces away from each other before turning around.
“Begin!” The Emperor shouted and Tori lowered her arms, pointing her sword to the ground.
Fabian wanted to fight her and was impatient to do so. Eventually, he’d attack.
Her eyes widened. She didn’t think it would be sooner.
Almost as soon as she lowered her sword, he advanced. He closed distance quickly, as if to catch her off guard. Defensive positions were her favorite; they wasted less energy, and she was lazy.
She pushed her pommel down and took a quarter step to the right, adjusting her angle to keep him in her center line. Fabian did not pull back and continued with his trajectory, though by her count, she should’ve waited a bit longer.
Huh, I’m out of shape. Don’t be so impatient, Tori.
The edge of her sword hit him and she, almost on impulse, took a step and extended, and got his shoulder.
“Hit! Lady Guevera!”
“That’s it?” Someone sounded surprised. “That was all it took?”
“That’s all that’s needed, Albert. They’ll spend more time preparing and waiting for an attack or opening than the action itself. This is a formal match, not battle.”
Tori returned to her usual resting position, waiting. Fabian stood still, keeping his sword in front of him. He’d tried to strike her twice before she was able to scoop his blade away from her and slam her pommel into his mask.
Then, he tried to get to her torso, and she parried his sword up, before bringing her sword down and getting his right side.
So far, she had three hits.
She heard some clapping and some shouts, but focused on returning to her spot. With distance between them again, she waited for one of the knights calling the match to start it.
“Begin!”
Tori was in her usual resting position, waiting. Fabian stood still, keeping his sword in front of him.
He lifted his sword over his head and Tori narrowed her eyes. That was a rather aggressive movement. Overhead strikes took a lot of energy, and it wasn’t in the style she was familiar with. Not in her original world and not in Soleil.
Fabian closed distance, holding his position until he could adjust his sword to the side and swing it down. Tori lifted her sword, but was a step too slow. Her blade was too close to his cross guard and the side of his sword was able to hit her.
She felt a sharp hit on her left shoulder and grit her teeth.
“Hit! Sir von Dorn!”
Tori stepped back and shook out her arms. “Not bad.”
“You’re not as great as you think,” she heard Fabian say behind his helmet.
Tori held back a little chuckle as they returned to their positions. “Begin!” the knight shouted.
“I don’t need to be as great; just better than you.” She shot forward, closing distance quickly and holding her sword up, on her right side. She saw him move forward, his eyes flickering to her sword. She could almost hear her instructor from her original world tell her ‘don’t be distracted by the sword; pay attention to your opponent’.
As soon as she saw Fabian’s eyes drift away from her, she took a sharp quarter step left. He lifted his hilt up and almost parallel to the ground to keep his sword between his body and her sword. Her sword slammed into his and as she pushed down, she lifted her leg and kicked him in the stomach.
She almost heard the sound of gasping and wasn’t sure if it was from Fabian or from the audience. He stumbled back and Tori took the opportunity to realign her sword, raise her elbow, and press the tip to his neck, pushing gently against his gorget. She didn’t need to stab him, though there was an urge.
“Hit! Lady Guevera!”
Fabian’s breath was unsteady, and she was sure he didn’t expect her to kick him after a series of movements from defensive positions.
She quickly stepped back and put distance between them, but didn’t take her eyes off of him. He was growing angrier and more frustrated. He stood in an aggressive stance and waited for the knight to start the round.
“Begin!”
He moved forward, occasionally moving his sword to likely try to gauge her reaction. They were two paces apart, at best, and all either of them needed to do was take a half step forward and close distance. Tori watched his shoulders and his head. If he were calmer, he’d remember not to bob his head. It would usually give away the direction he intended to move, but he was tense.
Tori kept her sword in front of her, pommel down, point up, and waiting for an opening.
Fabian bent his knee to take a half step to his right. He brought down his sword to his side to swing it up, towards her leg. He’d been aiming at her torso and head; she was surprised he’d bother with her leg, and she felt the sword hit the side of her thigh.
It was a hard hit, but the waster wasn’t batting her leg; it was making a cutting motion. In addition, they were wearing padded clothing with fine metal plating. Still, it would leave a bruise.
“Hit! Sir von Dorn!”
“That would’ve severed your leg,” he said in a haughty voice.
“Please, you really think you’re strong enough to cut through a thigh bone in one strike?” Tori snorted. “Now who’s delusional.” Even with a metal sword, at this stage in a battle, a razor edge would’ve been dulled and dented. At best, there would be a nasty, jagged wound halfway through her thigh, provided she wasn’t wearing protective armor or plating, and scrape or fracture her femur.
“Come on Tori! Two more hits!” She was sure that was Ilyana.
“Get him, Tori! I woke up early to come here! Make it worth it!”
Tori rolled her eyes at Sonia as she walked back to her position. She turned around and raised her sword over her right shoulder, resting it on top.
“Begin!”
Fabian closed distance once more and raised his sword to strike her left side, similar to an earlier move. Once more, Tori lifted her sword to block it, but she didn’t expect him to extend and release his pommel to grab her cross guards. He wedged his sword against her and in a swift move, managed to disarm.
Before her sword hit the ground at her feet, Tori immediately reached to her side to counter, but heard someone yell. She was reminded that this wasn’t a melee; she couldn’t just keep going despite what her body told her to do. It took her a moment to relax and move back.
Fabian seemed so proud of himself for disarming her that Tori almost felt bad for him. Did he forget they had one more weapon on their person, as was the agreement?
“Hit! Sir von Dorn!”
“He disarmed her!” someone shouted. “Doesn’t that count as him winning the match?”
“Disarmed her?” Someone else seemed to almost chuckle. “Young man, my angel still has her dagger.”
“A dagger versus a sword? Isn’t that a bit unfair?”
Tori rolled her shoulders and casually stepped back to put distance between them once more. She wondered how many other weapons Fabian had learned to fight against. In her fifteen years practicing HEMA, she’d also gotten the chance to practice with and against quarterstaff, battle axe, halberd, hand-and-a-half sword, and experimented with a single-handed sword and buckler, for which she found she had no gift.
And while her primary weapon was a longsword, her favorite weapon was strapped to her thigh.
Her hand slid down and against her leg, and her gloved fingers wrapped around the wooden handle of a training rondel. In her original world, it was a bit bulky for her, but she used what she had. She adjusted her grip and stance. Her elbows were tucked close and hips even.
What she loved most about using a dagger was the ability to get close. When her opponent was used to fighting at a particular distance, suddenly finding her face in front of theirs was uncomfortable and they often didn’t know what to do other than try to pull away.
In addition, without changing the technique, someone using a longsword would be at a distance disadvantage if she got in close enough. They couldn’t move their arms the way they needed to; they didn’t have the space to move their sword. They’d need to step back.
That brief moment of confusion as they tried to switch gears was often enough.
“Begin!”
Tori gleefully closed distance with her dagger gripped in front of her. Her eyes were on Fabian. His sword shot up, pointing it straight towards her head. She raised a dagger over her forearm to move it to the side.
“You did this last year! I won’t let you close distance!” He stepped back, trying to avoid her as he pulled his sword back to keep it out of her hands.
Tori kept moving forward, jerking her dagger forward and bringing it back as he moved his sword to try to defend. She was small and fast, and unlike longsword, she’d sparred more with the dagger recently thanks to Nanny Rey.
Walking backwards was always slower than closing distance by walking forward and with each step, no matter how Fabian tried to take an angle back, she was closing the gap between them, both trying to block and snatch his sword.
“What’s the matter? Am I too close?” Tori asked. “I can get closer.”
She didn’t mind a blade by her head, as long as there was something between them. Fabian was moving around the court backwards and trying to keep his sword between them. She reached her free arm forward and brought the flat side of his sword against her body, pinning it against her as her hand grabbed the waster’s cross guard.
Now, the waster was hers to control.
She twisted her body forward, keeping the sword pointed down and away from her as she stepped in. She lifted her reverse gripped dagger up and slammed against Fabian’s chest.
It hit the plated cloth beneath his padded clothes and slid off, but it was a clear hit, and as soon as the impact was made and the dagger slid off, Tori loosened her hold on the sword and almost appeared to jump back to quickly put distance between them.
“Hit! Lady Guevera! Five hits!” the knight shouted, repeating the rules. “One more will make it best out of ten!”
“One more, Tori!”
“Kill him!”
“Sonia!”
“That was Ilyana!”
Tori grinned to herself as she returned to her position. Several paces across from her, Fabian seemed to shake himself to refocus.
He readied himself in another aggressive stance, keeping his sword up with his hands at hip level and point aimed at her center. It was a good idea; it was meant to keep her at a distance. A dagger was at a massive disadvantage when it came to reach against a sword.
She’d need to get around the sword.
If it were her, she’d drop the point and do an upward cut while stepping forward, aiming for the upper thighs and lower torso. It would be difficult to defend with a dagger as she’d have to reach low to block the sword, leaving her somewhat exposed.
She saw him take a step forward and lower the tip of his sword.
Oh, shit is he doing it? He pushed down the pommel and lifted the sword, bringing the sword into an upward cut. Finally, he figured it out!
Rather than try to block, she avoided it. She took a step back moving her leg out of the way of his trajectory and allowing the blade to swing up past her. If he’d used his pommel to control the upward movement more than his raising his arms, he might’ve had time to adjust the point. Instead, the blade went up, past her shoulder.
Tori stepped forward and raised her dagger arm, putting it against the flat of his blade as her other hand reached for his cross guard. She was only able to grab the base of the sword, but it was enough to keep him from getting away. She closed distance quickly before bringing the dagger down and slamming it into his mask, throwing her entire body weight against him.
With his sword awkwardly placed, Fabian was off center, and he fell backwards, with Tori on top of him, still keeping her dagger against his mask as they hit the dirt.
“Hit! Lady Guevera!” the knight shouted. “Six hits! Lady Guevera wins!”
Tori leaned down until her helmet was almost touching Fabian’s. Her upper body and dagger poised over his head kept him pinned. Her faint voice spoke so only he could hear her.
“If you try to start any shit with any of my friends again, a mask will not stop this.” She tapped his helmet with the tip of the rondel. “From entering your body.” She then shoved her elbow into his stomach, making him lurch upward with a choked cough. “I hope I’ve made myself clear.”
She pushed herself up and stepped back, looking down on him. She tossed the rondel to the side before turning around and tugging off her gloves. She tucked them into the waistband of her pants and lifted the helmet off her head as she stopped on the dirt courtyard in front of the Emperor and Empress.
She held her arms out with the helmet still grasped one hand, and gave them a curtsy.
“Your Majesties, Your Highnesses, thank you for allowing us to have this match,” Tori said, keeping her head down.
“If there was any doubt that she was a marquis daughter before, there isn’t now,” Prince Emil said. He raised his hands and began to clap, prompting his wife and the younger members of the family to applaud as well.
Tori stood up straight and the Emperor rose to his feet.
“Lady Guevera, Sir von Dorn, you had an excellent match,” he said. “Sir von Dorn, you have improved in recent weeks. Don’t you think so, Sir Nassaun?”
Tori glanced over at Axton, whose narrowed gray eyes were fixed on Fabian. The younger man rose to his feet, dusting off his clothes before walking forward to bow to the imperial family. He seemed composed, though had an air of disappointment and frustration.
“I’d say he has,” Axton agreed. Fabian’s head perked up.
“You are excused to clean up before our lunch. As for our guests who will be joining us, please follow the valets to the dining hall,” the Emperor said as he gave each side a small nod.
Tori watched her friends look at her eagerly as she stood in place. She gave them a bright smile and nodded, mouthing ‘I’ll meet you there!’.
They were led away, and Tori stood in place, waiting until the Emperor and Empress left before she relaxed her stance and walked towards where Axton was waiting for her at the side.
Gideon had come down from his seat, throwing praises at Fabian, who seemed in a bit of a daze after he stood up.
“You’ve really improved! You managed to get three strikes and disarmed her! It happened so quickly. Your speed has increased, hasn’t it?”
Fabian gave him a slight smile in return, but everything else about his posture screamed defeat. “I hope so. Thank you.”
“I’m not just complimenting you; I’m telling you what I observed,” Gideon said with a wide smile. “You really have improved, Fabian. I’ve been watching you in matches in tournaments since we were children; I may be a layman in the art, but even I can tell.”
“He’s right.” Piers followed them down and Gideon brightened. Piers gave Fabian a curt nod. “You have improved in speed and technique.”
Hearing those words from Piers, who was himself a lauded swordsman, seemed to relieve Fabian despite his loss. He bowed his head and sounded sincerely grateful.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Please continue your efforts, Sir von Dorn. My brother is relying on you.” Piers gave him one more nod before walking around them and towards Tori and Axton.
Axton had given her a small towel and Tori wiped the sweat from her face.
“Please tell me my room has a bath waiting for me,” Tori said as he reached them.
“I will also have a maid come with salve for your bruises,” Piers said, looking down at her thigh where Fabian had struck her. “Do they hurt?”
“It’s nothing I’m not used to,” Tori said. “Can you go and be the host, so the others won’t feel uncomfortable with your parents? I know His Highness Prince Emil and Her Highness Princess Vivian are there, but I’d feel more comfortable if someone else was there to help with any awkwardness.”
Piers nodded. He looked at Axton. “Escort her.”
“I need to talk to her about the match, anyway.” Axton gave him a small nod and stood with Tori until Piers entered the palace. Axton then looked at her and led her away. “Are you better with the dagger than the sword?” Axton asked as he walked alongside her, leading her to the room where she had gotten ready that morning and the night of the Empress’ Banquet.
Tori nodded. “I feel more confident with it because I’m small. My reach is hardly ever equal to or as long as an opponent's when we both have swords; if I'm not fast enough or unable to get in a good angle, I’d never get close enough to strike them. The dagger throws them off and I’m more agile with it. It also frees up my other hand.”
“Can you use two at once?” Axton asked, raising a brow.
“I can, but I’m not as coordinated,” Tori said.
Axton nodded. They reached the hall where her room was located. “By the way, you told me that when you saw von Dorn’s master, he was using very aggressive movements, slightly longer extensions, and over the head positions.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are those the same as what von Dorn was doing today?”
Tori nodded and knit her brows. “Yes. He did that one particular over the head position. That’s not something I’m used to.”
Axton nodded. “It’s not a position used in the style we practice in Soleil,” he told her. He let out a low breath and frowned. “But it is a position prevalent in the style of the Duraga Federation.”