Slowly but surely, the season started to change as the earth below the snow was seen for the first ti in months. Rooftops were visible, and there was plenty of mud.
Yet, as the world around them changed, so did Irene’s father. The knight found it so hard to face him and realized that he had in fact lost a bit of weight. His face underneath his red beard was a bit sharper. She imagined that if she hugged him, it would also be evident.
However, she had been treating him as if he were fragile. Perhaps she could preserve his life if he were kept like glass and nothing touched him.
There was a point when she had looked forward to spring because it ant she could run back to her Commander’s side and finish the conversations they started, but that had been pushed deeper into her heart. Even though it wasn’t forgotten, it was of lower priority. How could her heart’s desires matter when her father was sick?
Even though silence seed to have taken over the Litharion family, Arne and Irene still found themselves on the practice yard each morning, seemingly taking it out on each other as they went on.
"You’re wasting unnecessary energy on extra movent," Irene explained as she blocked one of her brother’s downward strikes. "You’re going to get winded quickly if you don’t clean up your swings."
"I’m just here to blow off so steam," he insisted as he continued on as he had been.
However, Irene took advantage of the situation and showed him that she was correct. Using her speed, she continued dodging and blocking his attempts to take her down. He got close to hitting her shoulder with a side swipe, but she barely managed to move away in ti.
As they continued in this way, she could see his shoulders heaving and sweat gathering on his forehead. This was when she decided to finally use her own final blow now that he was weakened.
Not only did she send a feint, but she used the motion to power a misdirection and slap her wooden sword against her brother’s chest since he was caught off guard and too tired to move away in ti.
"Ah!" Arne let out a cry as he fell to his knees, his gloved hands on his chest that was stinging from Irene’s last hit.
Irene showed no rcy as she responded, "That’s for this." She pulled up her shirt to reveal a bruised torso.
So of the marks were yellowish brown, showing that they were healing, while so of the others were fresh and purple. It was a sure sign that the two of them had been taking it out on one another whenever they possibly could.
However, there was no bad blood between the two as Irene helped her brother up and they put the swords away together. They were both quite filthy from practicing in a muddy yard while the snow around them lted.
As usual, they both went their separate ways once they stepped foot into the house, but not before removing their dirty boots and placing them just outside the door so their mother wouldn’t throw a fit that the floors were dirty from them.
Irene didn’t even get back to her feet after removing her boots before her mother appeared at the end of the hallway.
"Irene, would you like to join at the tea house since the snow is starting to lt?" she asked.
Irene was imdiately on guard at that. Her green eyes expressed as much as they widened ever so slightly. It felt like a setup for sothing more.
"I don’t want to get dressed again, mother," Irene responded, trying to be gentle.
Even though she was a ss, she could still remove her outer coat and everything was clean underneath. It wasn’t as if she sweated that much, considering it was her brother who was doing all of the hard work.
Surprisingly, her mother answered, "My dear, wear whatever you want to. I simply want to enjoy an afternoon with my daughter."
That was how Irene found herself in her family’s carriage with her mother. All she had changed was her boots and put on a cloak. Otherwise, Rochelle found her surprisingly acceptable as she was.
The carriage ride was mostly done in silence as the two won were left to their thoughts and Irene was able to peer out a window as she observed the lting scenery all around. The sun felt warm that day for once. She thought she could have gone without a cloak if she wanted.
When the carriage finally stopped, they were left at the front of a small tea house on the outskirts of town but where all the notable won in this region t up to gossip with one another especially when the weather was as good as it was then.
"Your usual place, my lady?" the host asked as Rochelle and Irene were welcod inside.
"Please," Rochelle responded.
Irene was surprised when her cloak was taken, and the won already at the tea house welcod her with kind words and asked about her life as if they were truly interested in the ins and outs of the knighthood.
Soon enough, Irene and her mother were left to each other as they drank tea underneath a window that was foggy due to the quickly changing temperature outside.
However, gossip wasn’t the reason Rochelle asked Irene out that day. She recalled her daughter saying she would only return ho until the snow lted and the knighthood needed her once more.
Since the snow was lting and Irene seed to have no intention of leaving, Rochelle decided to try sothing else.
"The snow is starting to lt," Rochelle began as she pushed her tea to her side, eyeing her daughter as she asured her response to her words.
"It is," Irene responded lightly, not trying to direct the conversation in one way or another.
"Before..." Rochelle cleared her throat as she gathered her words. "Before you knew, you planned to return to the Duke’s Tower when the snow lted. Has that changed?"
Irene was looking at her mother before her gaze dropped to the porcelain cup.
She had been agonizing over this but avoiding it at the sa ti. She didn’t want to face reality. What if her father slipped through her fingers while she was away? What if Henry forgot her while she stayed here and broke her promise to return?
It was too much for her to decide upon.
"Before you answer ," Rochelle began, realizing her daughter was conflicted, "I just wanted to say, I think you should return to your knighthood."
Irene seed offended at that montarily. Why was her mother acting as if it were an easy decision?
"Why?" Irene asked.
Rochelle wetted her mouth with tea, feeling so burdened to be the one telling this to her daughter. It was clear she was uncomfortable as well.
"Because your father thinks that your Commander is in love with you," Rochelle finally admitted. "It seems that you have, again, proven wrong, darling."
Imdiately, Irene’s eyes started watering. It was a break in composure that Rochelle never would have expected to witness in her always tough daughter.
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