As Eamon grew older, his adventures with Morwen grew more intricate and daring. Though her time was now divided between her studies and new responsibilities, she still found ways to sneak him into places he was not supposed to be. The castle became their playground, a maze of secrets waiting to be uncovered. They learned the castle's hidden passages and the routines of the guards, turning the everyday life of the fortress into a landscape of mystery and excitement.
One of their favorite pastimes was slipping into the hidden passageways that threaded through the castle walls. Morwen had discovered these passages long ago and had only recently deemed Eamon ready to explore them. On one of their excursions, they squeezed into a narrow corridor behind a tapestry in the library. The passage was dark and dusty, the stone walls cool to the touch.
“Where does this lead?” Eamon whispered as they crept forward, his voice bouncing off the walls in a low echo.
Morwen grinned in the dim light. “You'll see. Just stay quiet and follow me.”
They moved carefully through the winding passage, their steps muffled by the thick layer of dust on the ground. Eamon’s heart pounded with a mixture of fear and excitement. They eventually reached a small peephole set into the stone. Morwen gestured for him to look through.
Peering into the room beyond, Eamon saw the Great Hall, where his father was meeting with some of the kingdom's advisors. It was like looking into a different world, a world that he was not yet a part of. He watched as the men discussed matters of the kingdom, their voices faint but urgent.
“They never know we're here,” Morwen whispered. “This is how you learn what’s really happening in the castle. Not just what they tell you.”
Eamon nodded, understanding now that the castle was filled with layers of information, and not all of it was meant for him. Morwen was teaching him the art of subtlety, the importance of knowing when to listen and when to speak.
It was through these secretive escapades that Eamon learned how to move silently, how to blend into the shadows, and how to listen without being seen. For Morwen, it was a game—a thrilling adventure where the risks were high, but the rewards were worth it. For Eamon, it was a valuable lesson in observation and discretion.
However, it wasn’t just with Morwen that Eamon explored the castle’s secrets. One day, as he was playing with Ailsa in their hidden garden sanctuary, she suddenly turned to him with a gleam in her eye.
"I want to see the training grounds," Ailsa declared, her voice full of determination.
Eamon blinked at her in surprise. The training grounds were strictly off-limits to them. It was where the castle guards trained in combat, a place filled with clashing swords, heavy armor, and gruff voices. Ailsa had always been fascinated by the guards, often sneaking peeks at them from the castle windows.
“Are you sure?” Eamon asked, glancing around as if someone might overhear them. “We’re not supposed to go there.”
Ailsa crossed her arms and lifted her chin defiantly. “I want to see real sword fighting, not just play with wooden sticks. Don’t you?”
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Eamon hesitated for a moment, then nodded. The idea was tempting. He had watched the guards train from afar, their movements powerful and precise. He had always wondered what it would be like to be among them, to see their skills up close.
“Alright,” he agreed, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But we have to be really careful. If we get caught…”
“We won’t,” Ailsa cut in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “We’ll go at dusk, when they’re finishing up. No one will notice us.”
That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the castle was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, Eamon and Ailsa made their move. They snuck out of their chambers and slipped into one of the hidden passageways Morwen had shown Eamon. Ailsa had insisted on bringing her wooden sword, just in case, and Eamon had reluctantly agreed.
They navigated through the dark passageways until they reached an exit near the outer wall. From there, they crept along the edge of the courtyard, staying close to the shadows. The sounds of clashing swords and shouted commands grew louder as they neared the training grounds.
When they reached the edge of the training field, they crouched behind a low stone wall, peeking over the top to watch. The guards were engaged in sparring matches, their swords glinting in the fading light. Their movements were fluid and controlled, a stark contrast to the playful bouts Ailsa and Eamon had in their secret garden.
Ailsa’s eyes were wide with awe. “Look at them,” she whispered. “They’re so… strong.”
Eamon nodded silently. He was mesmerized by the sight, the raw display of skill and discipline. It was clear that the guards trained relentlessly, perfecting their craft. It made him realize how much more there was to learn, how far they had to go if they ever wanted to truly wield a sword.
As they watched, a guard broke away from the group and approached the wall where they were hiding. Eamon and Ailsa ducked down quickly, their hearts pounding. They held their breath, hoping they hadn’t been seen.
The guard stopped just on the other side of the wall, his heavy boots thudding on the ground. He stood there for a moment, and Eamon could hear the faint sound of his breathing. The guard grunted, then turned and walked away, calling out to the others about the end of the day's training.
Eamon let out a sigh of relief, glancing at Ailsa. She was grinning, her face flushed with the thrill of almost being caught.
"That was close," she whispered, her voice tinged with excitement. "But did you see how they moved? How they fought?"
Eamon nodded, still feeling the rush of adrenaline. “They’re incredible,” he admitted. “We have a lot to learn.”
Ailsa’s expression turned serious. “I want to be like them,” she said quietly. “But no one will ever let me.”
Eamon looked at her, seeing the longing in her eyes. She was right; as a girl, especially a noble one, she would never be allowed to train like the guards. They would expect her to sit quietly, to learn to sew and dance, to become a "proper" lady. But Ailsa was not meant to be confined to those expectations. She was meant for something more.
Eamon made a decision in that moment. “We’ll keep practicing,” he whispered. “In our secret garden. I’ll help you. We’ll learn together.”
Ailsa’s eyes shone with determination. “You promise?”
“I promise,” Eamon replied.
With that unspoken bond, they carefully made their way back to the castle, sneaking through the shadows until they were safely in their quarters. The next day, Eamon was summoned by his father. King Cedric was seated at his desk, his expression stern.
“Eamon,” he began, his voice calm but with an edge that made Eamon's stomach drop. “I’ve been informed that you and Ailsa were seen near the training grounds last night. Is this true?”
Eamon hesitated, glancing down at his feet. He knew lying wouldn’t help, but he also knew admitting it would only make things worse for Ailsa.
“Yes, Father,” he finally said, his voice small. “It was my idea. I wanted to see how the guards trained.”
King Cedric’s eyes narrowed. “The training grounds are no place for children, especially not for Ailsa. She is to be a lady, not a soldier.”
“But why?” Eamon blurted out before he could stop himself. “Why can’t she be both?”
King Cedric’s expression softened for a brief moment, a flicker of something like understanding passing over his face. But then it was gone, replaced by the stern mask of a king. “Because that is not the way of our world, Eamon. You have to understand that.”
Eamon bit his lip to keep from arguing further. He was dismissed with a stern warning to stay away from the training grounds. As he left the room, he felt a mix of anger and frustration boiling inside him. It wasn’t fair. None of it was.
He found Ailsa in the garden later, sitting on the ground with her wooden sword lying next to her, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Eamon sat down beside her.
“We got in trouble, didn’t we?” she asked without looking up.
Eamon nodded. “Yeah. But it was worth it.”
Ailsa turned to look at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and defiance. “I’ll never get to train like them.”
Eamon reached out and took her hand. “We will,” he said firmly. “In our own way. In our secret place.”
Ailsa looked at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt. When she found none, she nodded. “Okay. We’ll keep going.”
They sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of the world pressing down on their young shoulders. But they knew, deep down, that they would find a way. Together, they would carve out their own path, no matter what obstacles lay in their way.