Days had passed since the entrance celebration ball, so many that my birthdays were now a re two weeks away.
And throughout those days, everything was… normal.
A bit too normal.
I had literally danced with myselves in front of an entire generation of students, their noble parents, and the Third Prince as well. In any normal circumstance, I would’ve been on the chopping block a long ti ago or gotten a verbal slap on the face at the very least.
But none of them ever ca.
There was no scolding. No reprimands. No sudden difficulty spikes during training…
Instead, my days were unnervingly routine.
Carine followed her usual schedule of intense, irregular sword drills and a heavier focus on academic studies.
anwhile, Feyt continued his personal training with Mother, who herself acted as if the ball had never happened. She barked instructions, corrected my stances, and offered her usual, silent nods as a sign to move on to the next step. It was business as usual.
I, of course, did my absolute best not to poke the sleeping lion by asking about it. But a weird part of couldn’t help but want to bring it up.
What am I, a masochist?
I couldn’t tell if Mother was genuinely trying to forget the whole spectacle, or if this blissful ignorance was a part of her plan to make worry to death.
However, it seed the answer was finally coming today.
“Halt!” Mother cracked like a whip.
I stopped dead mid-thrust, my body freezing into a perfect, unyielding statue. I didn't lower my sword, relax my muscles, or even dare to blink.
When Mother tells you to halt, you'd better halt everything—A personal note of mine.
What’s the next order gonna be?
Switch stances?
Feign a tackle?
A disarming maneuver?
But her next order wasn’t any of that. Rather, it was an order I had never, ever, heard before.
“Relax."
I stood unblinking, my eyes not moving an inch from where I had left them last.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
…Is this a trap?
“I said, relax,” she repeated, her voice laced with impatience.
My body responded instantly.
“Yes, Ma’am!” I yelled before abruptly lowering all my muscles into a stiff pillar.
Mother pinched the bridge of her nose as she let out a long sigh. “By the… Ugh. Don’t you know the word relax?”
Okay, you can’t really bla . How could anyone relax in her presence?
Mother crossed her arms as I finally ‘relaxed’.
“I’ve been aning to ask you sothing,” she began. She stood there silently, her eyes looking right through . Then, after a mont too long, she finally spoke.
“Feyt, how have…Tch!” she clicked her tongue, her words trailing off. She cast her gaze to the floor in frustration, as if there was sothing she was reluctant to ask.
I was still standing there, ‘relaxed’, wondering what she could be asking.
Then, I heard her take a deep breath before locking gaze with .
“Feyt,” she said, her tone weirdly… neutral. “...How have you been?”
The world turned silent nearly instantly. It was a sha there weren’t any crickets around, since their chirping would’ve been a perfect fit here.
“Pardon?” I asked, eyes blinking nervously.
“Must you make repeat myself?” she snapped.
“Y-Yes, Ma’am! I-I’ve been eating well and doing warm-ups just as you instructed, Instructor!” I finally managed, opting for a report of my routine.
Mother’s eyes narrowed in what I could only assu was annoyance. “I did not ask for a status report,” she said, her tone lower. “I asked how you have been… Are you… settling in your room just alright?” she continued, doing a terrible attempt at adapting a casual tone.
My mind went completely blank.
Is she asking if I'm… doing fine?
There’s no way she would ask that, right?
O-Oh! This must be her gauging the estate’s staff’s attempts at serving a guest like !
“I-I have no complaints, Instructor! The room is nice, Miss Eliza and the others are always helpful, and I… enjoyed the food…?” I answered unconvincingly. Not because I was lying, but because I wasn’t sure if this was truly what Mother was asking about.
She studied for a long mont, her gaze intense, but not as sharp as it usually was. It was as if she was gauging up and down like she would a dress, looking for any creases or tears. Then, she finally spoke.
“Hmm. Good.”
…That’s it?
She really is asking about my condition, didn’t she??
But why???
For all I knew, this could be her trigger to finally up my training to the next extre. Like:
Oh, good. Since you’re fine now, you’ll be fine if we double our schedule from now on, right?
Not knowing if that really was the case was agonizing. The suspense was killing .
Damn this anticipation to hell. I have to know!
“Instructor,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Forgive my impertinence, but… why do you ask?”
The mont the words left my mouth, I expected fury or a cold reminder that I shouldn’t speak until I was told to. Instead, I saw a flash of sothing I’d never seen on her face before, hesitation. She looked away, clearing her throat, her posture stiffening.
“It is… nothing that should concern you,” she deflected, her voice tight. Then, as if sensing the awkward and tense silence, she continued. “C-Carine had ntioned that you seed… off lately. That is all,” she answered before turning imdiately.
…No, I did not?!?!
I wouldn’t ask about myself to others like that!
Especially not to her!!
Before I could prod her further, she quickly cleared her throat as she turned back with her own wooden sword, her posture returning to its usual, sharp form.
“Enough relaxing! Do a hundred swings, now!” her voice cracked like a whip once more, this ti enforced by an actual wooden sword slamming against the floor.
“Y-Yes, Ma’am!!” My body instinctively complied, my questions basically thrown into the back burner.
And so, our totally normal training resud. Once again, both of us acted like nothing had ever happened, both regarding the ball and what had just happened. But as I fell into the familiar rhythm of tiring my arms out… My mind was in full-on confused-panic mode.
So… is she disappointed in or not??
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