I was never a particularly agreeable student. Although I had no qualms about education, I did not take to my studies with the righteous zeal that my siblings did. Indeed, where they refined their command of mannerisms and mathematics, or the sword and the lance, I took to advancing my scholastic studies of best selling romance fiction beneath the orchard trees.
This was, of course, not a vain pursuit. The fact that my private studies often ate into my official lessons was not an indictment against my willingness to learn. Quite the opposite.
I was a cultural pioneer. A royal ambassador.
Learning what poorly written and shameless drivel the masses enjoyed was a necessary part to bridging the gap between us and the people. Who were we to lead this kingdom, if we didn't know those who presided in it? How could we claim to speak on behalf of the citizenry, if we weren't even aware of what each of the top selling romance titles for the past two years were?
No … Juliette Contzen will not have it! As a princess of this fair land, I must represent the interests of those who sweat, bled, and read in it!
That is how I came to spend much of my time beneath the canopy of the orchard, with only the unwelcome company of the spring rain, the winter snow, the autumn leaves and the summer insects to disturb my cultural advancement.
At least until I learned to shoo them away.
Fortunately, swords were remarkably flexible! I had no inkling on how to fight, but at least I could keep my hair clear of anything nature threw at it now!
With no attendants and no umbrellas to shield me, I'd become adept at ensuring my own peaceful reading time. And that was considerably more useful than anything the master-at-arms could have taught me. When would I ever need to defend myself against more than a raindrop?
It was a pleasant arrangement for me that had never backfired. Until now.
Because currently—
I was facing a man wielding a drawn sword, who soundly bested me in age, strength, experience, and enthusiasm.
Now, at this moment of time, I could almost recount every word of instruction ever delivered to me by my myriad of tutors. And none of it concerned how to utilise a sword as an actual weapon.
And that included assuming a fighting pose.
“Princess, please ready yourself. No matter how keen your movement, it'd be better to minimise any chance of injury. I wouldn't want you to accidentally slip and fall while I tested your reflexes.”
The man stood with one foot before the other, partially side-on, and with a blade that was broader than my rapier, but still only required one hand to wield.
I, meanwhile—
Had no idea what I was doing.
I held my sword out uncertainly, first mimicking his stance, then trying to recall the poses of the knights as they sparred in the courtyard. Feeling every pose as awkward as my first dance, I twisted and turned until I simply opted to face my opponent head-on with my back straight.
It drew an immediate look of astonishment from my assessor.
“P-Princess? Is that your guard stance?”
“W-Why, of course! Why shouldn't it be?”
Even though neither he nor I should have any illusions regarding my swordsmanship, my pride still demanded that I slap on a smile of trained confidence. My opposite number was immediately silenced.
That's right … I was no swordswoman. But I was a princess. And while I wasn't accustomed to the field of combat, I was well-versed in the field of court.
When facing an opponent mightier than yourself, appear bigger than you are!
I will make myself as large as possible, without displaying any signs of flinching. Like a boulder wedged in the sand, I must make myself as unmovable as the kingdom itself! Face front. Hands and feet together. Chin high. As princess, I must never turn.
Holding my rapier flat across the bottom of my dress, I waited as I would if this were an official function.
And now having smiled as my answer, it was this man's turn to proceed with this bizarre exercise.
“I … I see. I'd heard that the royal fencing style employed by the house guards of this kingdom was unique. Of course, it'd make sense if the royal family also used it.”
My heart was filled with regret.
“T-That's … that is not untrue, however, I am not well-versed in that style of fencing. Please do not assume that what you'll witness is evidence of our kingdom's martial prowess.”
If this was charity, then I wished to be miserly.
Surely, there were easier ways to suffer this person's fancies than to tarnish the skill of our knights?
“Is that so? All the more exciting, then!”
Suddenly, the smile relaxed, and then faded altogether.
I was now looking at a man whose eyes were focused wholly on mine. And yet I could almost see the reflection of my sword in them.
“Are you ready?”
He took a step forwards.
Wait, I wanted to ask.
Did this man assume I knew what a swordsmanship grading was? Even if I had never undertaken one? I'd gleaned that it involved some sort of contact between our weapons, but in no world did I assume it to involve an actual duel. Did he not want to test my reflexes? Ask how I struck a dummy? Perform a spinning trick?
“Then … we begin!”
I wasn't ready!
To my umpteenth moment of horror in this one conversation alone, I could only widen my eyes at the sight of a fully grown man rushing towards me with his weapon drawn.
This … This was preposterous! What was I to do? I didn't know how to correctly parry a blade, or sidestep a strike, or dodge a lunging attack. This was clearly beyond the remit of what I'd envisioned.
It was a duel!
… Maybe?
I blinked.
And then I realised … it wasn't.
At least, not a duel like what I witnessed when the knights sparred in the courtyard or the guards trained in mock fights. Those engagements were so frantic and fast. A feast of moving steel and vicious charges.
It was nothing like how this man was slowly bearing down upon me.
As though weighed down by an hourglass dictating the pace of his every movement, he slowly angled his blade as he reached me, then slowly, oh so slowly, as though feeding a child with a spoon, he directed his sword towards my shoulder.
Slow.
So very slow!
Abject confusion took hold of me for a moment as I considered what this trickle in movement was supposed to glean from me. Surely, no swordsman would ever be tested by such an impractical attack?
Understanding struck faster than the blade did.
Ah, of course! He was grading my response, but that surely entailed evaluating me from the lowest possible grade upwards. That meant a slow, imprecise strike. Something even an unwieldy amateur such as myself could easily defend against.
I duly accepted the adventurer's professionalism. With all the time in the world, I swept up my sword and batted away his blade as easily as I did a drifting leaf.
As soon as the blade was redirected, it was as if the hourglass had emptied.
The man immediately twisted away, reversed his momentum and skipped a step back, somehow separating us by more distance than when he'd began moving towards me.
“S-Sensational!” he said, the whites of his eyes clear as he stared at me. “I didn't know if your rain dance would translate to combat ability, but you redirected that strike by using the weight behind my own thrust against me!”
I blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“... Ah, I see. Your completely open stance was designed to feign unpreparedness. You invited me to strike at a part of your body I deemed to be far from your guard. Instead, you were prepared to deflect what you knew to be an opportunistic strike carried with pace. If I didn't suspect something was amiss, you would have driven up your blade clean through my exposed arm … if this weren't a mere grading, that is.”
The man smiled. The expression he wore was of admiration and embarrassment.
I responded with overwhelming confusion. I had no idea what he was referring to. In fact, I wasn't even sure if he was speaking to me, despite the fact there was assuredly nobody else around us.
What was this about redirecting his weight? Didn't he hand me his attack on a silver platter? Was he being overly kind?
I … I had no idea!
However, he most certainly seemed satisfied!
In the end, wasn't that all that mattered?
“Oh … Ohhhhoho!” Understanding nothing, I defaulted to smiling brilliantly. “Of course! One must strike as true with a blade as with words! As a member of royalty, I cannot disgrace my forebears by lacking in the oldest art—that of war!”
“Indeed, I look forward to assessing the rest of your abilities, Princess!”
“Hm?”
“Then, let us proceed once more. Ready?”
“W-Wait, I—”
“On your guard, Princess!”
Once again, this strange man, now brimming with enthusiasm, pushed off his back foot and lunged with unerring intent towards me.
Why did he ask if I was ready if he wasn't going to listen?!
My jaw dropped open at the sheer audaciousness of this person. Not only was he monopolising my precious time with casual disregard, but he didn't even have the basic courtesy to await my stream of protests!
And to top it off … he wasn't even trying!
It was as though I could hear a clock grinding to a halt.
The moment he leapt forwards, I knew he was leaving enough room for me to not only evade his attack, but to write up a list of all the ingredients I wished to be prohibited from dinner. No, Mother, I do not care one whit how nutritious carrots are. If beauty pageants existed for vegetables, then carrots wouldn't be last—they'd be disqualified from entering. How could something so twisted and gnarly be permitted on a plate when looking so similar to a witch's appendages? If I could, I'd choose to be boiled in their stead than suffer the violent assault against my eyes. But how was I to convince the kitchen to oppose my mother's wishes? Perhaps an underhanded approach was needed. Bribery if possible. Coercion if not. Indeed, it wasn't only in the volumes of A Court Lady's Indiscretion that scandal and infidelity existed. Me and my bathroom breaks knew of your midnight trysts, Head Chef!
Oh, wait.
There was a sword approaching me, wasn't there?
With my thoughts swimming in my head regarding my carrot issue, I took a step to the side. The sword passed me by as it harmlessly pierced the air. Its wielder made a show of catching himself, as though having thrust with enough pace that the lack of any impact had thrown his body off-balance.
“R-Remarkable!”
The man didn't bother retreating this time. He was instead overcome with his widest smile yet, all the while awkwardly finding his footing.
I watched the theatrics with puzzlement.
And then—it suddenly became clear.
But of course, for a seasoned swordsman, moving slowly was likely as unnatural as moving swiftly. I suppose I had to offer some acknowledgement. It took a certain level of discipline to balance himself so keenly.
“Once again, you lured me into an attack. Yet this time, you saw through my feint and opted not to parry, but instead manoeuvre to seize the positional advantage by using my own momentum against me. It was a beautifully timed turn, Princess. Indeed, I was about to stop my strike when I realised I already had nought but your shadow before me. Without clashing blades, I went from attacker to defender. Had this been real, I expect your sword would have cut clean through my back.”
I blinked repeatedly.
Did he feint? When? He was moving so slowly that everything seemed to be one continual action. All I did was step away when he'd eventually moved a little closer!
“Oh … hohoh … ho … ! O-Of course … to see through falsehoods is as vital in swordplay as it is in diplomacy. This is one of the core teachings of … um … the secret royal fencing style to which I employ!”
“... Incredible. To have such insight at your age is a great achievement. It's not enough to be taught. You also need to listen. Your teacher must be proud.”
The last time I saw my teacher, she'd queried to my mother the legality of hitting my head with a textbook as a way of imparting knowledge.
Incidentally, I'm not sure how my mother replied. Only that I recently saw my teacher stalking the grounds with a heavy volume in her hands, and that it was even outside her usual working hours.
“Y-Yes … well, being studious is more than a matter of attendance. It's a state of mind.”
“I agree, Princess! And with that, I think I already have a thorough understanding of your swordsmanship abilities!”
“Is … Is that so? Most excellent! Then, let us call this exercise to a close and proceed henceforth with our day. I happen to be quite busy, you see. As a princess, my itinerary is relentless.”
The man had the grace to lower his head in understanding. Relief washed over me. At this rate, I'd still be able to pore through the novel waiting in the shrubs before I was summoned to dinner.
“I see. Then I will not waste your time any further. It's clear that you're more attuned to the sword than any student I've graded.”
“Why, but of course! The sword I carry represents my family's will to defend this kingdom with our own blood. I would never disgrace it.”
“Indeed, I see a warrior's determination in your eyes! In that case, how you respond to my signature technique should be all that's required to determine your true standing as a sword maiden.”
I tilted my head, smiling in puzzlement.
How strange. My experience of conversation to date was that the next words should have been partings and farewells, and possibly a proclamation of eternal subservience.
And yet by the way this strange man was now retreating to take his place opposite me, it was apparent that he knew no limits to being a nuisance.
With the apple tree as our backdrop, he assumed a bizarre stance, sword lifted over his shoulder, and with both hands on the hilt.
The smile on his face vanished. Only the fire in his eyes remained, the light dimming to be replaced by a cold gleam.
“It looks like I need to apologise again, Princess. Even though I wanted to grade you, it seems I still wasn't taking your examination seriously enough.”
I looked on with deep concern as a bead of sweat ran down his brow.
Was this commoner so out of shape that two swings with his sword was enough to tire him? Had I inadvertently allowed myself to be cajoled into a mock exercise with a complete novice?
“Um … Mr. Oddwell, although I agreed to participate in this examination, I really must insist that this draw to a close. My time is valuable and I've pressing matters of state to attend to. I would prefer that this end.”
The man nodded. His hands gripped tighter around his sword hilt.
“Understood! Your wish is my command, Princess.”
The next thing I knew, a circle of dark flames had suddenly erupted from beneath the man's feet.
I looked on, utterly aghast, as the beautiful grass withered within the circle. A powerful wind that hadn't been present before now fell across the man's figure, his hair and travelling clothes rippling as he fought against an invisible tornado.
“Emptiness. Infinity. Void. I am the hollow vessel of judgement. Let my blade sever lies from shadows and discern truth from blinding light.”
Gosh.
What a truly frightful aura he was emitting!
And those words? How did he do that? His voice sounded so strange, almost as though it was an echo within a deep cavern.
As the dark flames danced around him, some of it congregated around his sword. It seeped like a heavy mist to the tip of the blade, before wrapping around the remaining length of the steel. In moments, his weapon had the appearance of a flaming dark brand.
Naturally, I had only one reaction to such a spectacle.
“Ooh ...”
I nodded fervently.
True, this entire charade had been both deeply confusing and slightly irksome, but I was never one to shy away from appreciating the circus tricks of our hired entertainers.
“Blazing Adjudicator Form, 5th Stance ... [Abyssal Horizon]!”
The man leapt.
However, what I believed to be a small explosion of grass and earth as he pushed off the ground must have been a trick of the eye, as he barrelled towards me at the pace of a dying snail.
For my part, I admired the visual spectacle of the flames engulfing his sword as he painstakingly made his way towards me. I'd seen jugglers handling flaming torches, but flames on a sword, and dark ones at that, was entirely new to me.
Added acknowledgement needed to be given for the spontaneous sweat running down the man's face.
It was quite the circus trick.
I considered what to do. Obviously, he would never use an actual sword technique against me. Such a thought was preposterous. I was a princess and despite his proclamations, it was clear he had no intention of actually testing my non-existent swordsmanship.
Indeed … perhaps he wasn't so tactless, after all?
Had he correctly gleaned that my skills were bluster? Was this spectacular attack the final gift from which I could excuse myself with heaps of shallow praise in my wake?
My, how unexpectedly refined!
If that's how it is … then I should properly respond to his heartfelt act of politeness!
Now, what was that silly thing I sometimes said when tending to the roses?
“Very well! I understand your intent. A-Ahem. Annoying thorns begone. Gardening Form. Uh, 3rd Stance … maybe? Anyway, [Rose Thorn Clipper]!”
I swept my sword upwards.
In that moment—my sword emitted a dazzling burst of white light.
So much so, that for a moment, Starlight Grace truly did live up to its name.
“W-Wha—?!”
Either stunned or simply blinded by the burst of light, the man charging towards me faltered and blinked. I was also mesmerised. No doubt this brilliant glow was a point of my sword's craftsmanship. How strange. I'd never swung it with this much force before. Was that the catalyst for its unusual light?
In any event, it was a meticulous display of calculated luck on my part! With my supreme lack of skill, I'd actually misjudged the swing of my sword in my enthusiasm to respond to his colourful attack.
When the man's eyes opened again, it was to the sight of his only flaming weapon falling from his hands.
No, not quite falling … spinning. And wildly, at that.
“I can't … what was … ?”
Halting dead in his tracks, the man looked wide-eyed as the sword he'd imbued with so much passion went flying out of his hands as if he'd received a blow many times his strength was able to endure.
Yet there'd been no impact. No clash of wills. No mighty clang of steel.
It was, to be frank, slightly embarrassing.
Here was a self-professed swordsman, and yet he'd been so alarmed by a gleam of light that he'd violently tossed his own sword aside!
“M-My! I suppose some of the rumours may be true, after all. Could this sword truly be forged from the stars … ?”
I immediately went to consolation mode.
For a man who obviously would never have struck me, it was a rather undignified way to lose his weapon. True, the dazzling light was underhanded, but it was surely no reason to let your own weapon be cast to the wayside!
Shorn of his weapon and his senses, the man stared open-mouthed at the patch of grass that now housed his sword.
I looked between my sword, still radiant even with a dimming glow, and the man's shocked appearance. And though I was always keen to promote my noble character in the eyes of the masses, I was too overcome with pity to boast about the strength I didn't possess.
Those feelings of pity swiftly became something else.
Because the next moment … the man began to laugh.
“Heh … hehe … ahahah!”
Shaking disturbingly on the spot, the man dropped to his hands and knees, then continued to laugh towards the ground that was inches beneath his face.
“A-Amazing! To think that my strongest attack could be so easily fended off! You didn't even think to match it, but instead, simply chose to disarm me! Truly, this is what my teacher meant by fighting with my head instead of my heart!”
I took a few panicked steps away as the man proceeded to either laugh or bawl into the grass once more.
“I … I understand now!” he said, his voice both a cry and a song. “Oh, why wasn't it this obvious before? It's so clear. The way forward is as open to me now as the first day I ever held a sword. This is … This is freedom! That dazzling light did more to open my eyes than all those years of sweat ever did! I. Feel. Free!!”
“I-I see … well, that's marvellous ...”
Seeing the odd man doubled over, I made a dash for the shrubs. I grabbed my book, leaves and all, then immediately hurried away from the scene. The shortcake I abandoned with a pang in my heart, unable to carry so much as I fled.
His voice became fainter as I quickened my footsteps. And I knew that even if I'd stayed to lend my ear to whatever epiphany this bizarre exchange had afforded him, I wouldn't have missed out.
“Ahaha … hahah … ahaha … hahahah … ahahaha!”
As the cackling only became more frenzied, I made myself scarce while hugging both my sword and my book to my chest. My mind was torn between asking for the guards or a physician, but after the laughs could still be heard even after the man's kneeling figure no longer could, I opted for the wiser option.
I shook my head, then forced the memory far, far away.
“Commoners … it's as though we speak a different language … how frightening ...”
However, no sooner did I stop myself from shuddering did I realise that for all my effort, I didn't get to ask what grade I was.
I paused, half-turned my heel, then shrugged and continued forwards.
Oh well. It can't have been high.
I was never a particularly agreeable student. Although I had no qualms about education, I did not take to my studies with the righteous zeal that my siblings did. Indeed, where they refined their command of mannerisms and mathematics, or the sword and the lance, I took to advancing my scholastic studies of best selling romance fiction beneath the orchard trees.
This was, of course, not a vain pursuit. The fact that my private studies often ate into my official lessons was not an indictment against my willingness to learn. Quite the opposite.
I was a cultural pioneer. A royal ambassador.
Learning what poorly written and shameless drivel the masses enjoyed was a necessary part to bridging the gap between us and the people. Who were we to lead this kingdom, if we didn't know those who presided in it? How could we claim to speak on behalf of the citizenry, if we weren't even aware of what each of the top selling romance titles for the past two years were?
No … Juliette Contzen will not have it! As a princess of this fair land, I must represent the interests of those who sweat, bled, and read in it!
That is how I came to spend much of my time beneath the canopy of the orchard, with only the unwelcome company of the spring rain, the winter snow, the autumn leaves and the summer insects to disturb my cultural advancement.
At least until I learned to shoo them away.
Fortunately, swords were remarkably flexible! I had no inkling on how to fight, but at least I could keep my hair clear of anything nature threw at it now!
With no attendants and no umbrellas to shield me, I'd become adept at ensuring my own peaceful reading time. And that was considerably more useful than anything the master-at-arms could have taught me. When would I ever need to defend myself against more than a raindrop?
It was a pleasant arrangement for me that had never backfired. Until now.
Because currently—
I was facing a man wielding a drawn sword, who soundly bested me in age, strength, experience, and enthusiasm.
Now, at this moment of time, I could almost recount every word of instruction ever delivered to me by my myriad of tutors. And none of it concerned how to utilise a sword as an actual weapon.
And that included assuming a fighting pose.
“Princess, please ready yourself. No matter how keen your movement, it'd be better to minimise any chance of injury. I wouldn't want you to accidentally slip and fall while I tested your reflexes.”
The man stood with one foot before the other, partially side-on, and with a blade that was broader than my rapier, but still only required one hand to wield.
I, meanwhile—
Had no idea what I was doing.
I held my sword out uncertainly, first mimicking his stance, then trying to recall the poses of the knights as they sparred in the courtyard. Feeling every pose as awkward as my first dance, I twisted and turned until I simply opted to face my opponent head-on with my back straight.
It drew an immediate look of astonishment from my assessor.
“P-Princess? Is that your guard stance?”
“W-Why, of course! Why shouldn't it be?”
Even though neither he nor I should have any illusions regarding my swordsmanship, my pride still demanded that I slap on a smile of trained confidence. My opposite number was immediately silenced.
That's right … I was no swordswoman. But I was a princess. And while I wasn't accustomed to the field of combat, I was well-versed in the field of court.
When facing an opponent mightier than yourself, appear bigger than you are!
I will make myself as large as possible, without displaying any signs of flinching. Like a boulder wedged in the sand, I must make myself as unmovable as the kingdom itself! Face front. Hands and feet together. Chin high. As princess, I must never turn.
Holding my rapier flat across the bottom of my dress, I waited as I would if this were an official function.
And now having smiled as my answer, it was this man's turn to proceed with this bizarre exercise.
“I … I see. I'd heard that the royal fencing style employed by the house guards of this kingdom was unique. Of course, it'd make sense if the royal family also used it.”
My heart was filled with regret.
“T-That's … that is not untrue, however, I am not well-versed in that style of fencing. Please do not assume that what you'll witness is evidence of our kingdom's martial prowess.”
If this was charity, then I wished to be miserly.
Surely, there were easier ways to suffer this person's fancies than to tarnish the skill of our knights?
“Is that so? All the more exciting, then!”
Suddenly, the smile relaxed, and then faded altogether.
I was now looking at a man whose eyes were focused wholly on mine. And yet I could almost see the reflection of my sword in them.
“Are you ready?”
He took a step forwards.
Wait, I wanted to ask.
Did this man assume I knew what a swordsmanship grading was? Even if I had never undertaken one? I'd gleaned that it involved some sort of contact between our weapons, but in no world did I assume it to involve an actual duel. Did he not want to test my reflexes? Ask how I struck a dummy? Perform a spinning trick?
“Then … we begin!”
I wasn't ready!
To my umpteenth moment of horror in this one conversation alone, I could only widen my eyes at the sight of a fully grown man rushing towards me with his weapon drawn.
This … This was preposterous! What was I to do? I didn't know how to correctly parry a blade, or sidestep a strike, or dodge a lunging attack. This was clearly beyond the remit of what I'd envisioned.
It was a duel!
… Maybe?
I blinked.
And then I realised … it wasn't.
At least, not a duel like what I witnessed when the knights sparred in the courtyard or the guards trained in mock fights. Those engagements were so frantic and fast. A feast of moving steel and vicious charges.
It was nothing like how this man was slowly bearing down upon me.
As though weighed down by an hourglass dictating the pace of his every movement, he slowly angled his blade as he reached me, then slowly, oh so slowly, as though feeding a child with a spoon, he directed his sword towards my shoulder.
Slow.
So very slow!
Abject confusion took hold of me for a moment as I considered what this trickle in movement was supposed to glean from me. Surely, no swordsman would ever be tested by such an impractical attack?
Understanding struck faster than the blade did.
Ah, of course! He was grading my response, but that surely entailed evaluating me from the lowest possible grade upwards. That meant a slow, imprecise strike. Something even an unwieldy amateur such as myself could easily defend against.
I duly accepted the adventurer's professionalism. With all the time in the world, I swept up my sword and batted away his blade as easily as I did a drifting leaf.
As soon as the blade was redirected, it was as if the hourglass had emptied.
The man immediately twisted away, reversed his momentum and skipped a step back, somehow separating us by more distance than when he'd began moving towards me.
“S-Sensational!” he said, the whites of his eyes clear as he stared at me. “I didn't know if your rain dance would translate to combat ability, but you redirected that strike by using the weight behind my own thrust against me!”
I blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“... Ah, I see. Your completely open stance was designed to feign unpreparedness. You invited me to strike at a part of your body I deemed to be far from your guard. Instead, you were prepared to deflect what you knew to be an opportunistic strike carried with pace. If I didn't suspect something was amiss, you would have driven up your blade clean through my exposed arm … if this weren't a mere grading, that is.”
The man smiled. The expression he wore was of admiration and embarrassment.
I responded with overwhelming confusion. I had no idea what he was referring to. In fact, I wasn't even sure if he was speaking to me, despite the fact there was assuredly nobody else around us.
What was this about redirecting his weight? Didn't he hand me his attack on a silver platter? Was he being overly kind?
I … I had no idea!
However, he most certainly seemed satisfied!
In the end, wasn't that all that mattered?
“Oh … Ohhhhoho!” Understanding nothing, I defaulted to smiling brilliantly. “Of course! One must strike as true with a blade as with words! As a member of royalty, I cannot disgrace my forebears by lacking in the oldest art—that of war!”
“Indeed, I look forward to assessing the rest of your abilities, Princess!”
“Hm?”
“Then, let us proceed once more. Ready?”
“W-Wait, I—”
“On your guard, Princess!”
Once again, this strange man, now brimming with enthusiasm, pushed off his back foot and lunged with unerring intent towards me.
Why did he ask if I was ready if he wasn't going to listen?!
My jaw dropped open at the sheer audaciousness of this person. Not only was he monopolising my precious time with casual disregard, but he didn't even have the basic courtesy to await my stream of protests!
And to top it off … he wasn't even trying!
It was as though I could hear a clock grinding to a halt.
The moment he leapt forwards, I knew he was leaving enough room for me to not only evade his attack, but to write up a list of all the ingredients I wished to be prohibited from dinner. No, Mother, I do not care one whit how nutritious carrots are. If beauty pageants existed for vegetables, then carrots wouldn't be last—they'd be disqualified from entering. How could something so twisted and gnarly be permitted on a plate when looking so similar to a witch's appendages? If I could, I'd choose to be boiled in their stead than suffer the violent assault against my eyes. But how was I to convince the kitchen to oppose my mother's wishes? Perhaps an underhanded approach was needed. Bribery if possible. Coercion if not. Indeed, it wasn't only in the volumes of A Court Lady's Indiscretion that scandal and infidelity existed. Me and my bathroom breaks knew of your midnight trysts, Head Chef!
Oh, wait.
There was a sword approaching me, wasn't there?
With my thoughts swimming in my head regarding my carrot issue, I took a step to the side. The sword passed me by as it harmlessly pierced the air. Its wielder made a show of catching himself, as though having thrust with enough pace that the lack of any impact had thrown his body off-balance.
“R-Remarkable!”
The man didn't bother retreating this time. He was instead overcome with his widest smile yet, all the while awkwardly finding his footing.
I watched the theatrics with puzzlement.
And then—it suddenly became clear.
But of course, for a seasoned swordsman, moving slowly was likely as unnatural as moving swiftly. I suppose I had to offer some acknowledgement. It took a certain level of discipline to balance himself so keenly.
“Once again, you lured me into an attack. Yet this time, you saw through my feint and opted not to parry, but instead manoeuvre to seize the positional advantage by using my own momentum against me. It was a beautifully timed turn, Princess. Indeed, I was about to stop my strike when I realised I already had nought but your shadow before me. Without clashing blades, I went from attacker to defender. Had this been real, I expect your sword would have cut clean through my back.”
I blinked repeatedly.
Did he feint? When? He was moving so slowly that everything seemed to be one continual action. All I did was step away when he'd eventually moved a little closer!
“Oh … hohoh … ho … ! O-Of course … to see through falsehoods is as vital in swordplay as it is in diplomacy. This is one of the core teachings of … um … the secret royal fencing style to which I employ!”
“... Incredible. To have such insight at your age is a great achievement. It's not enough to be taught. You also need to listen. Your teacher must be proud.”
The last time I saw my teacher, she'd queried to my mother the legality of hitting my head with a textbook as a way of imparting knowledge.
Incidentally, I'm not sure how my mother replied. Only that I recently saw my teacher stalking the grounds with a heavy volume in her hands, and that it was even outside her usual working hours.
“Y-Yes … well, being studious is more than a matter of attendance. It's a state of mind.”
“I agree, Princess! And with that, I think I already have a thorough understanding of your swordsmanship abilities!”
“Is … Is that so? Most excellent! Then, let us call this exercise to a close and proceed henceforth with our day. I happen to be quite busy, you see. As a princess, my itinerary is relentless.”
The man had the grace to lower his head in understanding. Relief washed over me. At this rate, I'd still be able to pore through the novel waiting in the shrubs before I was summoned to dinner.
“I see. Then I will not waste your time any further. It's clear that you're more attuned to the sword than any student I've graded.”
“Why, but of course! The sword I carry represents my family's will to defend this kingdom with our own blood. I would never disgrace it.”
“Indeed, I see a warrior's determination in your eyes! In that case, how you respond to my signature technique should be all that's required to determine your true standing as a sword maiden.”
I tilted my head, smiling in puzzlement.
How strange. My experience of conversation to date was that the next words should have been partings and farewells, and possibly a proclamation of eternal subservience.
And yet by the way this strange man was now retreating to take his place opposite me, it was apparent that he knew no limits to being a nuisance.
With the apple tree as our backdrop, he assumed a bizarre stance, sword lifted over his shoulder, and with both hands on the hilt.
The smile on his face vanished. Only the fire in his eyes remained, the light dimming to be replaced by a cold gleam.
“It looks like I need to apologise again, Princess. Even though I wanted to grade you, it seems I still wasn't taking your examination seriously enough.”
I looked on with deep concern as a bead of sweat ran down his brow.
Was this commoner so out of shape that two swings with his sword was enough to tire him? Had I inadvertently allowed myself to be cajoled into a mock exercise with a complete novice?
“Um … Mr. Oddwell, although I agreed to participate in this examination, I really must insist that this draw to a close. My time is valuable and I've pressing matters of state to attend to. I would prefer that this end.”
The man nodded. His hands gripped tighter around his sword hilt.
“Understood! Your wish is my command, Princess.”
The next thing I knew, a circle of dark flames had suddenly erupted from beneath the man's feet.
I looked on, utterly aghast, as the beautiful grass withered within the circle. A powerful wind that hadn't been present before now fell across the man's figure, his hair and travelling clothes rippling as he fought against an invisible tornado.
“Emptiness. Infinity. Void. I am the hollow vessel of judgement. Let my blade sever lies from shadows and discern truth from blinding light.”
Gosh.
What a truly frightful aura he was emitting!
And those words? How did he do that? His voice sounded so strange, almost as though it was an echo within a deep cavern.
As the dark flames danced around him, some of it congregated around his sword. It seeped like a heavy mist to the tip of the blade, before wrapping around the remaining length of the steel. In moments, his weapon had the appearance of a flaming dark brand.
Naturally, I had only one reaction to such a spectacle.
“Ooh ...”
I nodded fervently.
True, this entire charade had been both deeply confusing and slightly irksome, but I was never one to shy away from appreciating the circus tricks of our hired entertainers.
“Blazing Adjudicator Form, 5th Stance ... [Abyssal Horizon]!”
The man leapt.
However, what I believed to be a small explosion of grass and earth as he pushed off the ground must have been a trick of the eye, as he barrelled towards me at the pace of a dying snail.
For my part, I admired the visual spectacle of the flames engulfing his sword as he painstakingly made his way towards me. I'd seen jugglers handling flaming torches, but flames on a sword, and dark ones at that, was entirely new to me.
Added acknowledgement needed to be given for the spontaneous sweat running down the man's face.
It was quite the circus trick.
I considered what to do. Obviously, he would never use an actual sword technique against me. Such a thought was preposterous. I was a princess and despite his proclamations, it was clear he had no intention of actually testing my non-existent swordsmanship.
Indeed … perhaps he wasn't so tactless, after all?
Had he correctly gleaned that my skills were bluster? Was this spectacular attack the final gift from which I could excuse myself with heaps of shallow praise in my wake?
My, how unexpectedly refined!
If that's how it is … then I should properly respond to his heartfelt act of politeness!
Now, what was that silly thing I sometimes said when tending to the roses?
“Very well! I understand your intent. A-Ahem. Annoying thorns begone. Gardening Form. Uh, 3rd Stance … maybe? Anyway, [Rose Thorn Clipper]!”
I swept my sword upwards.
In that moment—my sword emitted a dazzling burst of white light.
So much so, that for a moment, Starlight Grace truly did live up to its name.
“W-Wha—?!”
Either stunned or simply blinded by the burst of light, the man charging towards me faltered and blinked. I was also mesmerised. No doubt this brilliant glow was a point of my sword's craftsmanship. How strange. I'd never swung it with this much force before. Was that the catalyst for its unusual light?
In any event, it was a meticulous display of calculated luck on my part! With my supreme lack of skill, I'd actually misjudged the swing of my sword in my enthusiasm to respond to his colourful attack.
When the man's eyes opened again, it was to the sight of his only flaming weapon falling from his hands.
No, not quite falling … spinning. And wildly, at that.
“I can't … what was … ?”
Halting dead in his tracks, the man looked wide-eyed as the sword he'd imbued with so much passion went flying out of his hands as if he'd received a blow many times his strength was able to endure.
Yet there'd been no impact. No clash of wills. No mighty clang of steel.
It was, to be frank, slightly embarrassing.
Here was a self-professed swordsman, and yet he'd been so alarmed by a gleam of light that he'd violently tossed his own sword aside!
“M-My! I suppose some of the rumours may be true, after all. Could this sword truly be forged from the stars … ?”
I immediately went to consolation mode.
For a man who obviously would never have struck me, it was a rather undignified way to lose his weapon. True, the dazzling light was underhanded, but it was surely no reason to let your own weapon be cast to the wayside!
Shorn of his weapon and his senses, the man stared open-mouthed at the patch of grass that now housed his sword.
I looked between my sword, still radiant even with a dimming glow, and the man's shocked appearance. And though I was always keen to promote my noble character in the eyes of the masses, I was too overcome with pity to boast about the strength I didn't possess.
Those feelings of pity swiftly became something else.
Because the next moment … the man began to laugh.
“Heh … hehe … ahahah!”
Shaking disturbingly on the spot, the man dropped to his hands and knees, then continued to laugh towards the ground that was inches beneath his face.
“A-Amazing! To think that my strongest attack could be so easily fended off! You didn't even think to match it, but instead, simply chose to disarm me! Truly, this is what my teacher meant by fighting with my head instead of my heart!”
I took a few panicked steps away as the man proceeded to either laugh or bawl into the grass once more.
“I … I understand now!” he said, his voice both a cry and a song. “Oh, why wasn't it this obvious before? It's so clear. The way forward is as open to me now as the first day I ever held a sword. This is … This is freedom! That dazzling light did more to open my eyes than all those years of sweat ever did! I. Feel. Free!!”
“I-I see … well, that's marvellous ...”
Seeing the odd man doubled over, I made a dash for the shrubs. I grabbed my book, leaves and all, then immediately hurried away from the scene. The shortcake I abandoned with a pang in my heart, unable to carry so much as I fled.
His voice became fainter as I quickened my footsteps. And I knew that even if I'd stayed to lend my ear to whatever epiphany this bizarre exchange had afforded him, I wouldn't have missed out.
“Ahaha … hahah … ahaha … hahahah … ahahaha!”
As the cackling only became more frenzied, I made myself scarce while hugging both my sword and my book to my chest. My mind was torn between asking for the guards or a physician, but after the laughs could still be heard even after the man's kneeling figure no longer could, I opted for the wiser option.
I shook my head, then forced the memory far, far away.
“Commoners … it's as though we speak a different language … how frightening ...”
However, no sooner did I stop myself from shuddering did I realise that for all my effort, I didn't get to ask what grade I was.
I paused, half-turned my heel, then shrugged and continued forwards.
Oh well. It can't have been high.
