"It’s clear you’ve never faced a real opponent."
Whack!
"The amount of tis you’ve left yourself open in this match alone is unbelievable!"
Slam!
Perhaps it was a bit too fun for Irene to bully her brother while they sparred. But when he looked at her smugly and made fun of her height, she had to show him what she had been up to for the past couple of years. She certainly wasn’t sitting around nearly as much as he was.
Sir Gunnar and Sir Arthur stood off to the side, observing the match that had been a long ti coming after watching the children argue all morning and even through most of their warm-ups which resulted in them both having a few punishnts as they went on.
Sir Arthur cleared off the practice yard before his children could go out so when they got there after getting warm clothes on, all that was left to do for them was to begin.
By that point, Arne’s arms were unbelievably fatigued. As he held his wooden sword over his head, fully intending to block his sister from the downward strike she was serving, his arms gave in to the downward force. He was reduced to a pile of mush with his sister victoriously sitting on top of him.
"I’m going to be sick!" he shouted.
His sister’s knee was firmly in his stomach and she glared down at him.
"If you can’t take this much, how will you ever join a knighthood?" she taunted.
However, Arthur knew when it was getting to a point of unfairness and he decided he ought to pull Irene off of Arne so he wouldn’t truly get sick and waste all of the breakfast he had before. It wasn’t that wise to eat a heavy al before practicing, but circumstances were different as they found things to do while they were snowed in.
Arthur dragged Irene off of Arne and allowed his child a mont to catch his breath.
Rather than moving much further away, Irene rely moved towards the edge of what was shoveled for them and flopped onto her back in the fresh snow.
Large willow trees on the property and the sheer height of Arthur’s ho blocked most of the snowfall over the practice yard, but snowflakes still made their way down and got stuck in the Litharions’ beautiful red hair.
"Arne!" Rochelle called from the back entrance. "It’s about ti to co inside for your studies."
"Ha-ha!" Irene fake laughed at her brother.
However, he wasn’t going to let it go. Knowing how badly his sister’s left shoulder was hurting, the child ran forward and smacked her shoulder before he sprinted off and into the back entrance where his mother was waiting for him.
"Ow!" Irene scread in horror. "Bast—"
"Irene Kara Litharion!" Arthur reprimanded. "You don’t have to behave like a lady but you don’t have to curse like a weathered knight."
"He hit in the tattoo!" she defended herself. "What if it doesn’t heal correctly? Then it won’t protect !"
However, Sir Gunnar stood off to the side positively lost at all of the information being revealed to him. It was evident in his expression.
"It turns out your real na is Irene," the knight observed. "However... a tattoo?"
Irene’s eyes widened. She was worried about people knowing her na because then there was more of a possibility of them accidentally calling her that. It took Agnes doing her a massive favor to learn that much about her.
Then there was the issue of the true reason she went ho and how the regular person in Peroda wouldn’t understand Sünsto reasoning.
At the girl’s terrified expression, Sir Gunnar raised his hands.
"Imdiately forgotten," he assured her. "And if you don’t want to explain the latter, I will not force you to indulge ."
He was approaching the situation cautiously. Since he had forced his way into her trust, he didn’t want to push too hard and send her off in the other direction.
"Wait," Irene stopped the man before he could think she was trying to hide once more. "I will tell you."
She glanced at her father who nodded at her. She wasn’t entirely sure if that ant Sir Gunnar knew a bit of the truth yet or not, but she would tell him enough so that there was nothing to misunderstand.
Rather than the embarrassed twelve-year-old she wanted to behave as she realized she needed to push herself as her twenty-year-old self.
"When Sünstoian girls reach adolescence, we must get a protective tattoo placed on our shoulders," she admitted softly. "Our souls are said to be the most vulnerable during this ti and my grandmother is the only one left qualified to do this."
The knight felt honored she was divulging more little by little and he nodded his head.
"Now I understand the importance of you leaving," he admitted. "Please confide in if sothing happens like this in the future."
"I will," she assured him. "Thank you."
Since it seed like practice was over with for the afternoon, Irene took the other wooden practice sword that her brother had left on the ground and took it to their back entrance where a chest for the practice items stood through every winter that Irene could rember.
Her father always told her how important it was to keep practice swords out of the snow or they would dry and get brittle.
Sir Arthur trailed his daughter, but as he saw the heavy wet snow on the house, he couldn’t help the worries welling up inside of him
"If either of you are up for it, would you like to check on my mother with ?" Arthur asked. "I imagine her house could have caved in but she still wouldn’t leave the damned thing."
Irene shot her father a look, displeased that he was allowed to speak like that but she wasn’t. However, his look in response told her that he was a weathered knight and had earned the honor.
"I will go with you, dad," she relented.
"As will I," Gunnar responded.
It seed at least that their afternoon plans were chosen for them.
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