Grace watched the dark giant she had known so long as Daryl the Dauntless walk past her. He seemed to be in some sort of distress, that permanent scowl on his face looked much more solemn, his eyes fixated on the ground beneath him. He had just told her not to worry, which seemed off to her. The man usually just teased her all the time, even whenever she wanted to be serious with him. She looked up at him with concern in her eyes, and warned, "Be careful out there, tough guy."

"Don't give me orders," he joked, or at least that is what Grace always took that as. He closed the door behind him, and Grace replaced the wooden plank that kept it locked.

Grace sighed, picking her broom back up. She swept around mindlessly, with only one thing on her mind. Why doesn't he just talk to me...?

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. A part of Grace hoped it was Daryl again, but knowing how busy he always was, there was a slim chance. She put her ear to the door and heard some loud chatter amongst multiple men instead. She slid the grille open to see a group of swordsmen chatting. They did not seem to notice she was staring at them. Nevertheless, she opened the door for them, knowing that they were all part of the guild. She moved out of their way as they walked in, most of them seemingly refusing to acknowledge her presence. One of them, though, tried to catch her eye, but she looked the other way.

The man grinned, apparently not taking the hint, and decided to approach her. "Hey there, honey," he started, moving in uncomfortably close. He pulled up a bag of tokens and pointed at it. "I just made out real nice on this last job I got. What do you say I take you out for a bite to eat tonight?"

Grace examined his rosy cheeks, smelling the booze in his breath. Other than his repulsive behavior and disposition, the man was handsome, actually. He was big and strong, too. He did not seem much older than she was, and she remembered it was not too long ago since he joined the guild. However, even if the man was not a sloppy drunkard, Grace had no interest in pursuing someone who only seemed to acknowledge her as a pretty woman. Grace smiled at the man regardless, and answered, "I don't really like men that much. Sorry!"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So, you prefer women?"

She began sweeping again. "No, I prefer getting work done."

The man laughed. "Well, I'll have you know that just about every girl I meet prefers me. Name's Jeremy!" He reached to grab her arm. "Maybe I can change your mind!"

Before the man was able to grab her, she had shoved the broomstick into his outstretched hand instead and stepped to the side. It happened in the blink of an eye. Jeremy's eyes widened, looking at the broom he held in his hand. "Huh?" He turned his head to look at the girl. She held a firm stance, with her hands balled into fists at her sides. She kept that wide smile on her face, though, which made him chuckle. "You're an awfully spry thing, aren't ya?"

"And you're awfully ignorant," Grace responded.

"What do ya mean by that?"

Grace tilted her head upward. "Why don't you sweep the floor for me, honey?"

"A woman's job?" the man scoffed. "Please, I'm a swordsman!" The man dropped the broom.

Grace leapt forward, catching the broom before it even came close to touching the wooden floor, and swiftly placed it back into his hand. Again, Jeremy could hardly tell what happened in that second. He just noticed Grace was by his side all of a sudden, doing a double take between her and the cleaning tool that kept miraculously returning into his grip. Grace crossed her arms and said, "You should really get to sweeping."

The grin was wiped from Jeremy's face. He looked over at his friends he came in with who had all already situated themselves at a table. They were all staring at him, and when they saw the look on his face after being bested by a woman, they filled the room with laughter. His face became red from embarrassment, and he glanced at Grace.

Grace put a hand on his shoulder. "You're still a rookie, so you've got plenty to learn around here, Jeremy!"

Glancing back and forth between his laughing friends and the lady he thought was so frail a few moments ago, he gulped down his pride and started sweeping slowly. His friends reacted with louder laughter and some of them even banged their fists on the table.

Grace patted him on the shoulder. "There ya go, now you're learning! So, if you'll excuse me..." Grace looked toward Rod's quarters. "I gotta go talk to the big boss." She walked away from the scene.

Grace entered the room to find Rod sleeping, his head resting on his folded arms against the table. She rolled her eyes and sat across from him. She waved a hand in front of his face, and then she snapped her fingers in his ear. His head shook and he snorted a little amidst his snoring. Grace sat back and crossed her arms, and then shouted, "Rod!"

"What?" he yelled, his head bolting upward and looking around. He met eyes with Grace, who smiled that usual closed smile and waved back at him. Rod frowned at her and wiped some drool off the corner of his lip. "What did I tell you about coming in here uninvited?"

She shrugged. "I just wanted to know what you and Daryl were talking about earlier."

Rod shook his head. "It doesn't concern you." He got up and grabbed a pitcher off the shelf behind him. He poured some rum into the cup he had on the table. He sat back down and brought the cup to his lips. "Besides, aren't you supposed to be cleaning up around here right now?" He gulped down his drink and set the cup back on the table.

"I got someone else to do it," she retorted.

He raised an eyebrow. "You what?"

"He was being obnoxious. I just put him in his place."

"You do not have as much authority here as I do, when will you learn that?"

"I'll learn as soon as they do," she argued. She looked down with a bit of a pout on her lip. "I'm tired of them treating me like some play thing."

Rod sighed. "Sweetheart, I thought we agreed that you wouldn't expect any special treatment from them or me."

She shot the man a glare. "I'm not expecting special treatment. I'm expecting equal treatment, Rod!"

Rod rubbed his eyes. "Ugh, why are you still calling me Rod?"

"You know why."

Rod stopped rubbing his eyes to look into Grace's. He had a much warmer look on his face, with raised eyebrows and a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. "We're in private, Gracie. You can call me Dad if you want to."

Grace took a breath through her nose, arms still crossed. "Well, Dad, I guess you'll have to excuse me for being annoyed that all these rookies think I'm just some servant. It's like they have no idea who I am."

Rod knit his eyebrows. "I thought you wanted it that way."

Grace looked down and shook her head. "If it'll get them off my back, then maybe it'd be better if they knew."

Rod raised an eyebrow. "Off your back? What, was he flirting with you or something?"

With her eyes still fixated away from her father, she answered, "Yeah, and he was really rude about it."

Rod chuckled. "Well, ya certainly look a whole lot better than your mother!"

"It's not a joke, Dad!" Grace snapped. "It's not that I'm worried they'll hurt me or anything. I can handle myself, but still, I just want the same respect everyone else gets around here."

"Aw, sweetheart," Rod consoled, "I understand you want the respect you deserve, but what you have to realize is that unless you find more work and make a better name for yourself, you simply can't have it both ways. Either you aren't going to get the respect you want because you're a woman, or everyone is going to give you special treatment after learning you're my daughter."

"Don't you think I know that already?" Grace grumbled. "I just wish you'd step in some time and remind them that we're all on the same side."

"You want me to step in? I thought you said you could handle yourself."

Grace looked away, realizing he had a point.

"Besides, you just told me you put him in his place, right?" he continued. "Maybe you've earned more respect earlier than you even realized."

Grace looked back at her father with a lightened-up expression.

Rod smirked. "What was wrong with the guy in there anyway? Too ugly for you?"

"No," Grace answered with a stale expression. "I told you he was just rude."

"Daryl's not all that nice to you."

Grace rolled her head back a little. "What do you mean by that?"

Rod chuckled. "You seem to get along with him."

She shrugged. "So? He never tries to take me out anywhere or tries to flatter me like the others. He just jokes around with me, and..." She stopped herself from saying too much.

"And...?" her father inquired, leaning in toward her with a grin on his face.

Grace felt her face get warmer. "What?" she asked, trying to straighten her facial expression.

"And you still like him, don't you?"

Grace took a deep breath and looked away. "I was a kid, Dad. It's not like that anymore. He's too old for me, anyway."

"Ya look so disappointed about that!" he teased.

"I'm not!" she retorted, her face continuing to flush red.

Rod leaned back into his chair. "There's no need to hide it, Gracie. You still like him, I know you do. That's why you came in here in the first place, isn't it?"

She crossed her arms tighter.

"I see you're not denying it," Rod snickered.

Her fingers fidgeted against her torso. "I was just asking what you two were talking about..."

"Why are you so worried about it anyway? Him and I have had our talks several times before. What makes this time any different?"

Daryl's solemn expression as he walked past her, telling her not to worry, ran through Grace's mind. "It's just...he seemed so sad. And he told me not to worry about it, but..."

Rod straightened his lips and replied, "But him telling you not to worry just made you worry even more, right?"

Grace nodded.

Rod thought about it for a moment, stroking the hair on his chin, and then he threw his arms up in a calm submission. "Well, I suppose you'll know about it soon enough, so I guess I'll let you in on it."

Grace raised her eyebrows with curiosity.

Rod continued, "I informed him that it's been about thirty years since he joined the guild, and he hasn't chosen an apprentice yet."

Grace gasped, her eyes getting big. "Wait, you didn't tell him he had to find one, did you?"

Rod gave a slow nod. "I did."

"But why? After what happened with him and his son? How could you make him do that?"

"Neither of us know all the details, Grace, but it's something that happened almost nine years ago, and he needs to get over it."

Grace jerked her head back, her hands hitting the sides of her chair, almost disgusted with her father's insensitivity. "What is the matter with you?" She did not realize how loud her voice got.

"Hey, hey, calm down!" her father ordered. "I have my reasons, just hear me out!"

"You oughta have some really good reasons for this, Dad!" she snapped back.

"Listen," Rod started, "Daryl is one of the most incredible swordsmen I've taken under my wing. Taking on an apprentice for the guild will immortalize his knowledge of fighting. Now before you assume that I'm only thinking about the guild, hear this..." He leaned forward a bit, lines in his forehead forming with a softer expression on his face. "That man is hurting. He may never admit it or show it, but I believe finding someone new, someone to care for will help heal his heart. I understand that it's very possible he may never recover from what happened all those years ago, but it's worth a try, don't you think?"

Grace sighed, calming herself down for a moment. "Dad, if what you told me about him is all true, I just don't know if it's a good idea to push him into this."

"He'd been putting it off for years," Rod explained. "If I didn't give him a push, he may have never taken the leap."

Grace was silent for a moment. "You know, now it's not just Daryl I'm worried about..."

Rod looked at her for an explanation, but a part of him knew what she was getting at.

Grace's breathing got heavy, and she looked her father dead in the eye. "Daryl...did he really kill his own son?"

Rod was quiet, and then he answered, "I don't know. It's like I said earlier, I don't know all the details, but from what he told me, he had to do it."

Grace hunched her shoulders forward and looked down. "But what did he do?"

"Daryl?"

"Yes, what did he do that made him have to kill his only son?"

Rod's eyes shifted downward. "I don't know, sweetheart. That man had a rough upbringing, though. I assume it reflected in how he raised his own child."

Grace looked at her father with sad eyes. "Did you ever meet his son?"

"I did, only once, but from what I saw, he seemed like a bright young man eager to learn what his father had to teach him. I honestly can't tell you what went wrong. Whether it was the boy's actions or Daryl's, I can't say for sure."

Grace's eyes darted back and forth as her gaze shifted downward. Daryl...what kind of man are you?

"You like him, I know," Rod continued, "and I understand those feelings may never truly go away, but you must keep in mind that Daryl is still a swordsman who's cut down hundreds of people for money. From what I remember, the last job he took up involved him killing a woman not much older than you, Gracie. When it comes down to it, we have no idea what he's capable of."

"Do you think..." Grace started, "...whatever happened with him and his son, will happen again with his new apprentice?"

Rod gave a light smile. "Not at all. Daryl may be cold, but he's no fool. I'm not saying I think everything will go smoothly, but I'm positive he won't make the same mistakes twice. I'll guarantee you that much!"

Grace lightened up in that moment, and slowly nodded in response.

A bigger smile formed on his face as he gestured to Grace. "Plus, where would I be if I didn't decide to take on my own apprentice? My darling Grace!"

Grace blushed and looked away but could not stop a smile from stretching across her face. "Aw, come on, Dad..."

"You understand now, yes?" he continued. "The legacy of apprenticeship is not just for the guild, but to learn more about ourselves, and to build our hearts. Take a look at this!" Rod grabbed a rolled-up piece of paper on the shelf behind him and unrolled it on the table in front of Grace.

Grace looked down at the paper and read, "Apprentices made swordsmen..." There was a list of names with several tally marks next to each one. She recognized a few of the names: William the Willful, Arthur the Austere... Her eyes got big when she got to a name near the bottom of the list. "Daryl was an apprentice, too?"

"That's right," her father pointed out. "Unlike most other apprentices, though, he was trained by someone completely unrelated to him."

"Really? Who?"

"A traveling swordsman by the name of Kinjiro Chikamoto."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "What kind of name is that?"

Rod shrugged a little. "All I know is that it is a name derived from the land his people descended from, and he called himself a samurai."

"Samurai?" Grace repeated.

Rod nodded and continued, "Kinjiro took Daryl in when he was very young. Daryl had been abandoned by his parents, you see, yet Kinjiro saw something in Daryl that no one else could. And now, because of Kinjiro's willingness to be his mentor, Daryl was able to learn from him and hone his own skill. Now we know him as Daryl the Dauntless."

Abandoned by his parents? There's so much I still don't know about him.

Rod rolled up the paper and put it back on the shelf behind him. "You understand more clearly now, yes? Daryl is in a very similar position as his master before him. His apprentice will likely be someone he has no relation to, and I trust the apprentice's skill will strengthen this guild in the years to come."

Grace still looked a bit down. She was still thinking about Daryl's mental wellbeing through all of this.

Rod read the expression on her face and responded, "Now don't you keep worrying yourself about Daryl. He'll be alright, better than before, even. Better than before..."

Grace thought about it for a moment, and then said, "Alright—" She looked up to see her father snoring again, in a similar position to when she first came in. She smiled and pat him on the head. "I'll let you get some rest then, Dad. I know ya need it."

Grace got up and left Rod's quarters. Back in the main room, she found Jeremy still sweeping awkwardly a bit farther away from where he had started. Grace rolled her eyes and walked up to him. He jumped up a little when he noticed her coming. Grace put her hands on her hips and said, "You're pretty slow, aren't you?"

He looked away, cheeks still red. "Eh, I do specialize in sword fighting, not...this."

Grace snatched the broom out of his hands. "Just go back with your friends and get a new job already."

His face lit up and he responded, "Thank you, mi' lady." He hurriedly walked over to the table with his friends while Grace started sweeping again. Before he sat down with his friends, he looked back at Grace, scratching the back of his head and asked, "Perhaps you can cure my ignorance?"

Grace looked back up at him. Oh yeah, I did call him ignorant, didn't I? She smiled ear to ear and answered, "I'm Grace the Gleeful, Rod Pixley's only apprentice!"

Jeremy gasped, along with a couple of his friends sitting at the table. "The woman is a swordsman?" they started murmuring. The rest of them, who were older than the others, either laughed or rolled their eyes at their surprised reactions. "Idiots," one of them grumbled, shaking his head.

Jeremy smiled back at her with a raised eyebrow and nodded. He then took a seat with his friends.

Grace continued sweeping with a thought lingering in her mind. Daryl, just prove my father right, okay?