Shortly after the news of Irene’s move into knighthood, another announcent ca in the sumr. However, this one was from King Alfred—sothing that certainly shocked all of Chemois.
For many, it felt like they were only worth the trouble when they were winning wars for him. It wasn’t the first or last ti they would feel cast aside by that man. Such was the history of the north.
The announcent still gave a shockwave of happiness throughout as Lord Arthur Litharion was chosen by His Majesty to act on his behalf in bestowing the honor of knighthood on the apprentices who earned it through the war. In the south they would also have a formal knighting ceremony.
None of anyone from Chemois wanted to be involved in such an event so they all opted to remain in the north and attend much less official proceedings. It would suit the uninhibited temperants of the northerners more anyway.
However, the announcent ant Irene had to face the others much sooner than she had prepared herself for.
How strange it was that for the months she had been healing and then retraining, all she wanted to do was be back with the other knights and spending her ti the way she had for the past years before the war. Every second of every day was spent wanting to be back.
Yet when it was truly presented to her, she had so much resistance to it. She stressed about the fact that everyone undoubtedly knew that she was a girl now. It wasn’t that Felix would go ahead and tell everyone but there was never a straight answer to who else was there in the infirmary tent outside of Felix and Stanley. There were others but they were naless.
She felt she couldn’t ask Felix since he had never responded to her letter. Or, rather, he was likely too busy to. Finishing off of a war was no small feat certainly.
There was a subdued knock at Irene’s open door and she turned quickly to see her father leaning against the doorfra with his arms crossed over his broad chest.
"You look handso, dad," she complinted him.
He held out his arms and looked down at the thick, dark red tunic he wore. While the material itself was durable because he refused to wear sothing that wasn’t, there was a finely embroidered golden stripe along the edges of the sleeves, neckline, and around the base.
"Your mother insisted I ought to dress in a way befitting soone who has a direct line of contact to His Majesty," Arthur explained. "He is treating more like a vassal than I would prefer."
"Well the other reality is one of the princes or the King himself coming here to do it himself," Irene reminded him. "I don’t believe any Chemoian would prefer that."
The man smirked lightly. His daughter was getting more snappy the older she got. He didn’t like it at tis but he was proud of her no less.
Since she was going to present herself as a girl to the others for the first ti, she ought to have her quick wit accompanying her at all tis. He was still unsure of if he wanted to leave her behind there even though she had prepared her things and insisted it was the right thing to do.
"Are you ready?" he asked her.
"I’ve packed—" However, she cut herself off when she realized he had a specific tone to his voice and she turned to look at him in more significantly. "I’m as ready as I can possibly be. It will never get easier to face the others as I am. So what other choice do I have if I want to beco a knight?"
"You are so incredibly close to becoming an adult," he responded gently and walked forward a few steps so he could grab her shoulders. "These decisions are yours to make and I trust that the head on your shoulders and your heart will always guide you in the right direction."
"Even after I lost control on the battlefield..."
She trailed off and her gaze was broken. That was perhaps the hardest part to accept that the injuries she sustained were entirely within her control. Everything was a result of a choice she made whether or not she was in her right mind in that mont.
"Irene," he sternly stated. "You have only grown from that. Look, you even carry Leif’s sword with you. It is the only way that I know you’ve healed enough to face life once again. Besides, you’ll be miserable if you have to stay here for any longer. Your restlessness is starting to beco noticeable."
The last part was said in a teasing tone.
Whenever Irene was puttering around the house out of boredom, she would tap against things or speak unnecessarily. She had a lot of energy to burn off but nowhere to burn it. Her brother had been staying with their grandmother over the sumr so that she could teach him how to be more proficient with a bow so she didn’t even have him to ss around with.
"Yes, well, I will be out of here soon so that nobody has to be annoyed with ," she responded lightly. "Even though you will imdiately send letters stating how much you miss ."
She teased him back, showing she could dish it just as good as she could take it.
"There is nothing wrong with that," Arthur defended himself. "Now, get your last preparations in order. We will be departing shortly."
"Yes, father," she responded more dutifully than the casual way she was speaking before.
He hated to see the shift in her behavior, but he understood it well.
In no ti, Irene had gotten everything she needed to together.
It was strange gathering clothing that didn’t have the explicit purpose of keeping her secret from the others. Rather, it was simply what she wanted to wear and nothing more or less than that.
The clothing her parents had made for her was still sturdy and multi-purpose but they weren’t dresses and that was all she could be happy for.
As she approached Sorrel who was brushed and fit with her saddle by one of the young stablehands at her father’s estate, she saw that her mother was out there already. She was ready to say goodbye to her husband and daughter even though it was a bit begrudgingly.
When Irene approached her with a saddlebag over her shoulder, Rochelle turned to Irene.
"I hate to see you going back already," she admitted. "It feels like yesterday you were taken back here with such a ghost-like appearance I thought for sure you were no longer with us."
"I couldn’t be defeated that easily," Irene insisted with a small smile.
Rochelle rely sighed at that, but then she pulled out a small glass jar from her apron pocket.
"I know it’s probably not preferable while your with a bunch of knights, but this is a bit of lilac oil that might be good for you when you’re missing ho," she explained. "I use it to ta my hair when it’s feeling a bit dry. Since you got my wavy hair. Now that you’ve let it grow out, I feel it would be good to learn how to ta it."
Rochelle was rambling which ant she was avoiding sothing and Irene knew that it was the inevitable goodbye.
She took the bottle and placed it in one of her pockets before turning and giving her mother a tight hug.
"Thank you for taking care of the past few months," Irene said.
"I will cherish the months we had," Rochelle responded quietly. "Be safe, dear."
"Yes, mother," she responded before the embrace was over and it was ti for her to mount her horse.
When her father was up on his own large steed, she knew it was ti to leave and she gave one last nod to her mother before they needed to start.
Even though her mother had many disagreents while under the sa roof, they always resulted with better understanding that her mother was so passionate about her children because of her unyielding care.
Even if Irene found it stifling, she had to accept it for what it was because it would likely never change.
With that, it was ti to go on and face the journey that lay ahead.
Since none of the proceedings could go on without Arthur, he and Irene took a slow and comfortable journey all the way to the Duke’s Tower.
The roads were clear and the weather was immaculate. Because of that, there were endless travelers now that it was safe since the war had concluded a couple of months before.
No matter where they went, people recognized the burly man with red hair and it made the journey even longer, which Irene didn’t mind.
However, what she wasn’t expecting was her ever-caring father to brag to everyone who crossed paths with them that his daughter was going to be knighted.
Even though many looks of disbelief were casted in her direction, her big burly father beside her endured no one said anything more than an enthusiastic congratulations.
As mortifying as it was, she was still beaming.
Only when the Duke’s Tower ca into view did the teenager begin to feel anxious.
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