—:—:—

I woke up the next morning eager to practice at the training grounds. There was in itch underneath my skin that kept me up last night.

I was frustrated. The whole week I walked on eggshells.

Stephan and I only saw each other a few times, mostly during the rare occurrences of breakfast or when he lurked through the halls at night. Each time he looked at me coldly, ignoring my courtesies.

Gwendol had put out my clothes for training. A thick black wools and black pants. I had opted for stays instead of a corset so that I could move better.

I pushed my hair out of my face, the sweaty strands sticking to my forehead. I huffed out, examining the fallen knight in front of me.

He laid on the ground, his sword several feet away.

"Miss," he said. "For the sake of my arms, have a little mercy."

"Tomas," I said, picking up his sword from the ground. "You know that word isn't in my vocabulary."

The young knight frowned and got up, dusting dirt off his pants. His lip was cut from when he landed. I could feel bad about it but I didn't, he was the only one who liked to spar with me.

Tomas Gray was the son of a noble and a laundry maid. The only thing he had was his last name that was given to him by his later mother. In other words—a bastard.

That did little to take away from his skill though. He was good with a long sword, trained by the more...unsavory citizens of Florentia when he was only twelve.

He only came into the Dukes service because I could see he was a good addition to the knights who were severely diminished. A scrawny boy who wielded a sword in desperation—hunger was a better motivator than glory.

Tomas was short but he was quick and knew where to find an opening. It wasn't a conventional fighting style but who needed conventional when you needed to survive.

Sandy hair that came down to his chin and brown eyes set in a small oval face. He was only twenty three but he looked like he was sixteen, something his opponents liked to joke about until he placed a sword to the neck and asked to repeat it again.

Tomas took his sword back, swinging it in his hands as he inspected the blade.

"He's looking at you again?"

"Who?" I asked, fixing my hair.

He glanced behind me again. "Lord Stephan."

"I know," I sighed, feeling the weight of his glare. "It's annoying. Maybe I should just challenge him to duel and have it done with."

"I beg that you don't. Do you know how many of our men are scared of him?"

I scoffed. "As if there's anything be afraid of."

"It's fortunate that I missed his arrival," Tomas said. "If it wasn't for my mission in the north then I'd have to deal with his knights."

Stephan was already there with his knights, running through drills. I placed my sword back into my sheath and leaned against a fence post, watching them.

They were swift and well coordinated. Stephan led them through attacks that weren't out of practice with a dummy but from years on the battlefield. Every strike was intentional, aimed to kill than maim.

Deadly. That's what they are.

I had to be wary of them.

A knight with dark skin and curly hair glanced at me, flashing me a grin. I returned his pitiful attempt of flirting with a flat look. This only made the man grin wider and his brown eyes seemed to shine.

He was a little shorter compared to the other knights but absurdly muscular, the result of years of training. He threw his head back in laughter as he put his shirt back on.

"He's been staring at you too, Miss," Tomas informed me.

I rolled my eyes as I caught sight of a few maid sneaking glances at him, their faces were red and not because of the cold.

It wasn't hard to blame them for being so distracted, a handsome man is after all, a handsome man.

I walked past his group of men with Tomas following behind me.

Stephan caught my gaze, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

My grip on my sword tightened.

"Shouldn't thieves stick to the shadows?" He asked, lifting up his sword and pointing it towards me. "Did you get lost?"

I didn't flinch away from the edge of his sword. The steel was sharp, pressing against my throat. If he wanted to he could just let his blade slice into my skin and take the positing of heir by force.

If it wasn't for my pride, I'd let him do that.

"I'm here to train, My Lord." I said.

"I won't spar with you."

"Who said I wanted to?"

"You've been practicing since morning."

I scoffed, tapping the sheath of my sword. "Even if wanted to...why not? Because I'm not worthy? Or is it because you don't want to show your men how weak you really are."

Stephan stopped in his tracks, swinging around. I could see the conviction in his eyes before he even answered.

"Raise your sword."

I lifted my blade, bending my knees as I waited for the first strike. "Gladly, My Lord."

"Miss, don't!" Tomas tried to stop me.

"Hush, Tomas." I said. "Take this as an opportunity to observe."

A circle gathered around us quickly. Servants and knights watched us, the murmurs flowing through the crowd like a tide. I blocked them, focusing on him.

Stephan made the first move, swinging his sword towards my head.

I quickly parried it, feeling my knees stiffen at the force of his blow. My reflexes just saved me from losing my head. Metal scarped against metal, ringing uncomfortably in my ear.

He tried to push me back but I refused to budge.

"Am I going too easy on you, imposter?" He asked.

I let out a scoff and I kick him in the shin as hard as I can, taking his moment of pain to disengage.

There are rules of fighting with the sword. Dirty tricks were frowned upon but not using them would result in death. 

Stephan glared at me.

Following the rules did not help you win a war.

I shrugged, flashing him a smirk and assumed a neutral stance, waiting for him to attack me once more.

Stephan was ruthless as he rained down blow after blow. Thrusting, hacking and swinging away at my defenses. I could hear the voices of his men, they were grating on my nerves.

"Don't lose, My Lord!"

"You got this, Captain!"

"Show her what you've got!"

Some of the men were hollering from the crowd, their eyes eager to see who would win this round.

Despite spending years on the battlefield they were ready for bloodshed. Stephan and I fighting was inevitable...I just wish it had been under better circumstances.

Gwendol's white face came into view. I could see her fists clenching the material of her skirts.

"Keep fighting, Miss!" She said, over the other voices. "Don't give up!"

Tomas was behind her, his face pale as he pulled at his hair. "Watch your side!"

Stephan slashed down towards my thigh, the tip of his blade missing me by mere inches as I ducked underneath his arm to avoid it.

I felt his blade and his bloodlust.

I feigned to the left, watching for an opening that I desperately needed.

His side was open.

I didn't hesitate. I thrusted my blade forward, the material of his shirt sliced like ribbon but I couldn't land a hit.

I had missed by mere centimeters.

I caught his eyes as he pulled back. What had been full of contempt was now filled with disbelief and a hint of excitement. He grinned as I pushed back against him, the spark in his eyes growing brighter.

I didn't return his grin. I just narrowed my eyes.

I didn't know if I was being mocked or not.

At least he wasn't going easy on me. I could tell in the way he neared his weight down with each swing if his sword. I could appreciate that.

I hated it when people underestimated me. Sometimes it was fun when they assumed I was weak and I prove them wrong. I liked to play along, waiting for the right moment of knock them down to reality.

This was not one of the moments.

This was so much more than that.

He pushed back against my blade and spun away, his sword raised to aim at my exposed side. Stephan was done testing my defense. He must've found something I overlooked, it was obvious on his face.

I would but give him that opportunity.

I surged forward, my arm swinging my sword up to block his next attack.

Our swords strikes against each other hard enough to rattle my teeth. Stephan disengaged first, jabbing the tip of his sword at my shoulder.

I dodge it, bringing my sword up and knocking his away from me. He takes a few steps back, sword low and ready for the fury of blows.

I stake a few steps forward, facing him as I raise my sword and—

"Enough!" A familiar voice called out.

Stephan and I stopped mid fight, our swords frozen in mid air centimeters from our flesh, glancing at the parting crowd.

Charles was storming towards us, his face twisted in rage. His anger was so palpable that it nearly filled the training yard.

I could heard the click of his cane as it made contact with the ground. I winced as the sound grew closer and closer like an oncoming storm.

"That is enough!" Charles yelled so loud that it echoed throughout the fields.

The knights who were cheering on Stephan quieted down, bowing to Charles as he passed by them.

Even if they followed Stephan on the battlefield, Charles was still their lord in Florentia. They had to show their respect and if they didn't, they would have to present their necks.

Tomas turned so pale it looked as he was going to become a ghost. Gwendol held him upright by the scruff of his clothes.

I stepped out in front of Stephan, my blade lowered to my side. "Your Grace, I—"

He struck the blades out of both of our hands with his cane, throwing them to the ground. My knuckles ached as wood made contact with them.

His face was now red, the veins on his neck distended.

"It's been one well! One week! Is this how you two behave?" He spoke, his words sharp like a whip. "Like a pair of animals fighting over a carcass? Like savages with no thought of reason? If you wish to kill each other then at least let me die peacefully first!"

I swallow back the shame.

I bowed, lowering my head. "The fault was solely mine, my lord. I goaded him into a fight."

"Don't you dare utter a word, Miranda!" He snapped at me. "I should throw both of you in the dungeons for a night and leave you alone with your thoughts. We aren't the imperial family to fight amongst ourselves. If you are truly members of this house, maintain your dignity."

Stephan's face darkened like a storm cloud. He looked even more angrier than before.

Like father, like son I suppose.

"I know your words are directed to me, old man. Say it to my face if your have the courage."

Charles didn't hesitate to get in his face. I was afraid a blood vessel would pop. Him dropping dead was the last thing I wanted right now.

"Don't talk to me about courage, Stephan!" He said through gritted teeth, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt. "If you had an ounce of that you wouldn't be—"

"You know nothing!" Stephan roared. "You have no right to speak of courage! All those years...where we're you?! What makes you think that—!"

"I am your father!"

"I was your son!"

The training yard was silent except for the sound of the wind. Everyone was watching us, including the staff.

Information about our fight would spread like wild fire, reaching the lowest of farmers and highest of lords by the time the sun went down.

This was going to be a disaster.

I turned around, glaring at my men. I jerked my chin, signaling them to leave.

They looked hesitant until Gwendol bowed her head in acknowledgement, picked up her basket of laundry and left, dragging Tomas along with her.

Despite the excitement, nobody was willing to disobey my orders unless they wanted additional training from me.

I gave them a hard look and watched as they shuffled away, whispering amongst themselves.

All that remained were Stephan's men who watched with cold eyes, not willing to leave their lords side even if it meant disobeying the Duke.

The divide couldn't be any clearer.

They were different from our men. More experienced, more skilled, and more ruthless.

I didn't have any contempt for them, I actually admired them. Most of them had their tales sung by bards and bar maidens alike. They are all brave and strong, traits that are valuable in the north.

If only there wasn't a rivalry, I'd like to learn from them.

Right now, I was glad that I wasn't the focus of their attention. I'd had enough of them staring holes into my back for the past few days.

"I know everything!" Charles said, "You must stop now, son."

Stephan laughed darkly, the grin on his face is all teeth. "Do you really detest me so much, father? Even to the point where you'd replace me with some rat you've found gods only knows where."

Charles had his back turned to me. I couldn't see the expression on his face.

I could feel a surge of magic from Stephan. It lashed at my skin like a whip. Thankfully the necklace around my neck protected but I could feel it's effects.

Magic was deadly and unpredictable. I hated it more than I hated Stephan.

Charles let go of his son, taking a step back. "That 'rat' is the one of the reasons why Florentia survived."

Stephan looked unphased.

Charles stalked past me without saying a word. He glanced at me briefly, giving me a hard look that would make anyone else cower.

A part of me was disappointed in myself for how little composure I had. But...it did feel good to bare my teeth at him.

Stephan was as good as getting underneath my skin as I was.

I picked up my sword from the ground, feeling it's weight in my hand.

"You might not believe it, My lord." I said, tying my hair back into a bun. "But your father does love you."

He spat on the ground, wiping blood from the corner of his lip. "And who are you to tell me that, you imposter? You are nothing. You only have his support but not his love."

I've only seen two sides of Stephan, his anger and his hatred. Today I saw something new, his sadness.

He hid it well under his armor and brash personality but it lingered on.

I could pick at like a scab and make him bleed. It was a tempting thought. I don't hesitate to attack even the slightest of weaknesses but something in the back of my mind tells me it's not right.

A pearly conscious. It seems I haven't lost it yet. I'll have to work on that.

It wasn't my business. Stephan and Charles are family, they have to resolve this—whatever it is—by themselves. My only job is to secure my position of heir against him.

I sigh. "I don't need either to deal with you, My Lord."

Stephan scoffed. "I'll kill you if you ever come near me again."

"You're the one who told me to raise my blade." I feel the corner of my lips turn up. "Are you calling me a liar, My Lord?"

Stephan was taller and had more experience. I was small but agile. Our fighting styles contrasted deeply.

A fight wasn't serious. It could be nothing.

Now...it was different.

I could see it in his eyes.

I was a legitimate threat to him and he knew it well.

"I'll give you a word of advice, imposter. Just this once." Stephan said, nodding towards the sword on my hip. "Don't hold back against me next time. I expect my fights to be fair."

"I could say the same to you."

He gave me one more baleful look and turned around, returning to his men who let their captain pass with a bow of their head.

I watched on, my hand gripping the hilt hard enough to turn my knuckles white.

It seemed as if I was getting used to watching him walk away from me.

—:—:—

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