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Thunk

Thunk

Clang

“That’s enough for today, Lucian,” Master Garrett blocked my sword from hitting the trunk of the tree again. “Your father wants you to get washed up and ready for the Courts.” Lines crossed his face from both scars and wrinkles. His dark violet hair tinged with silver, his orange eyes glowed in the morning sun.

I bowed to him. “Thank you, sir.” I placed my practice sword in its rack, then raced into the house. This would be my first time seeing the dazzling Courts that Mother talked about.

“Lucian! Shoes off!” Marie shouted as she pointed to the trail of dirt I brought in. She put her hands on her ample hips, watching me closely. Her pink eyes were both humored and exasperated, though her pale lavender hair was frazzled as it attempted to escape her bun.

“Apologies.” I retraced my steps so my tracks would match up, then took my boots off. I grinned at her, then shuffled my socks where I saw dirt, collecting it in the yarn. When I reached the end, I tore them off my feet and ran up the stairs to my room. I threw the door open and gazed at the dresses that filled my wardrobe. I wanted to wear something pretty, but understated, since I have not have my debutante.

Marie knocked when she reached my door. “Master Barnett wants you to dress as his heir.”

My face fell, as I slowly closed the doors and bit back tears. “We’re going to Court, so of course he wants me to hide who I am.” My voice was flat and devoid of emotion. After all, I am his only child.

I stripped the shirt and pants off, setting them in the basket with my socks. I untied the binding wrap that held my growing chest and took a deep breath in. I stretched, feeling freer than I had in a while.

“At least it’s not a too-tight corset that Mother said was in fashion when she was a young Lady,” I admitted.

Marie helped me bathe, scrubbing my back while I worked on my front.

“Your mother would have been sad to see you like this, my Lady,” she whispered gently. “You deserve to be showered in pretty things, not blades and blood.”

I took the towel from her hands and dried my skin while she prepared my clothing. “It is what it is, Marie.”

“But it shouldn’t have to be,” she huffed. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll find someone who’ll sweep you off your feet.”

I laughed. “You’ve been reading too many fairy tales.”

We rebound my chest then put on the white undershirt, a yellow and orange brocade waistcoat for our house colors with black breeches, then the dark red justacorps coat with matching stockings.

Marie brushed my short hair back and styled it with hair lotion. I glanced into the mirror, my frosted forest green hair, which made my glacial lake blue eyes stand out. I looked like a dignified young man. Too bad I was not born one.

Someone knocked on the door, and my father stepped into my room. He did not say anything as he inspected everything. His outfit matched mine, though the colors were more faded from their age.

“He looks like a proper gentleman.” He bent down to my level, his long dark green hair swept back into a low ponytail with midnight blue eyes. “Make sure you act like one as well.”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, Father.”

He exited my room, leaving me to push down the annoyance of being treated as his heir instead of his child. I walked out the door and stared at the tall portrait of our family.

My mother was a beautiful woman, her green hair and blue eyes glittered in the paint. Her hands laid on her large pregnant belly. Father wore the same clothes as he did now, but his face was softer in the painting.

She passed six years ago when she died after delivering my little brother. He followed her into death minutes after birth. I gazed at the tinier me, filled with curiosity and excitement over getting a sibling. I wore a dress that matched Mother’s, though there were more frills on mine.

“Lucia,” Marie whispered. “Your father is waiting.”

I jumped and rushed to the door. I slid my shiny black dress shoes on and hopped into the carriage. It jolted as it ambled towards the capital city and the glimmering Courts of the royal family.

We arrived at the castle in the evening. Lords and Ladies flitted and flirted as they passed through the doors, standing ready to be announced. A trio of boys jostled and wrestled each other ahead of us. A fourth stood off to the side, watching with his arms crossed.

Father spoke out the side of his mouth, barely moving his lips. “As this is your first time at the Courts, might I remind you that you are fifteen and my heir, and I will not tolerate disobedience.”

“Understood.”

When we reached the front of the line, he handed the herald our invitation.

“House Barnett with Marquess Edel and his son, Lord Lucian!” the herald called out.

It felt like every eye was on us, murmurs drifted through the crowds. We glided down the steps to the main floor. I stayed slightly behind Father then knelt in front of the King and Queen with our arms across our chests.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Marquess?” The King smiled from where he leaned on the arm of this throne.

“It has, your Majesty.” Father did not look up from the floor as he spoke.

“And this is the first time you’re bringing your son around here?”

“Yes, my King.”

The King’s smile turned vicious. “I look forward to seeing your son fight tomorrow for the tournament.”

“My apologies, your Highness, but we must return to our lands tonight.”

The King scoffed. “You work too hard.”

“All for the glory of the Kingdom.” Father’s answer was smooth, as if he had rehearsed this moment a thousand times.

“Fine, but one of these days, you will need to allow us to see your boy’s skill. After all, if he takes after you, he’ll be one of my most prized defenders.” He waved us off.

We stood, bowed, and then walked into the throng of people waiting for their audience.

Ladies chattered behind their fans. Lords mumbled under their breaths.

“I shall return a little later, Lucian. Stay out of trouble.” He left me standing near a wall, walking towards another group of noblemen.

I scuffed the toe of my shoe, wishing someone would save me from my boredom.

“Hey, you!” someone called out.

I looked over to the four boys who had been rough-housing earlier. “Me?”

“Yes, you! Borderlander!” another of them said with a sneer at the slur.

“Yet, I have manners that you are surely lacking,” I replied without thinking.

The third boy had heavy scarring on his face, almost hidden by a veil of red hair, tried to calm them down. “Leave the Borderlander alone.”

The fourth grinned, his dark teal hair and copper colored eyes glistening in the candlelight. “After all, the Marchioness died to get away from his cold as ice father and son.”

I pulled myself away from the wall and tackled him to the ground. Before his friends could stop me, I punched him in the face. The other boys pulled me off him as I spat on him. “My mother may have died, but you better keep her title off your lips.”

He sat up and wiped my spit off his chin with the back of his hand. He glanced at the blood, then me. “This will be fun. Let’s take him outside for sword practice.”

They dragged me outside, but I did not want to make a scene, else Father would punish me.

The two boys holding me released my arms when we reached the sparring ring. The fourth boy, taller and older than the others, tossed me a sword. I caught it easily and looked at the dull blade in the light that came from inside. I set it down and took off my outer clothing.

“What a priss,” the first boy, with yellow blond hair and wisteria eyes, taunted.

I grabbed the sword as the copper-eyed boy launched himself at me. I blocked it easily, then countered.

We matched each other’s moves, watching for a hint of weakness. I spotted one and lunged. He faked the opening and sliced my face with his sword.

We separated, and I gingerly touched the cut. Bright red blood covered my fingertips.

He pointed at me with his sword. “Would you look at that? Now, he even looks like the barbarian Borderlander he is!”

All honor was out the window now that he actually harmed me.

This fight was a setup from the start, so there is no use in holding back.

I attacked him, slashing his chest with the dull sword. It did not cut through his clothes or skin, but it would leave a wicked bruise. I grabbed the front of his shirt and threw him into the dirt. I slammed the sword into the earth next to his face. His eyes widened when he saw how close my weapon was to his eyes. I leaned over him, letting the blood drip from my face onto his.

I squatted over him. “I may be a Borderlander, but at least my family taught me honor.” I stood back up and kicked him in the ribs once. He yelled in pain, but I did not care.

“Lucian!” Father shouted from the door.

I turned away from the four boys, as the other three went to help their companion. I gathered my clothes, keeping them as far away from the blood as I could.

“What happened here?” he asked, then he gasped when he saw my face. “What happened to your face?” He beckoned a maid to get me towels for the blood, then for the doctor.

“A distinct lack of fairness and honor, Father,” I mumbled. I looked up at his face, confused on the worry that covered Father’s eyes. “They dragged me out here, then the boy on the ground slashed my face with a sharpened blade, even though they gave me a dull practice sword.”

The maid raced back to us, and I pressed the towel to my cut. Pain shot through my head.

“Where is the doctor?” Father demanded.

“He’s waiting for you inside,” the King replied.

Father whipped around and bowed. “Apologies for my son causing this disruption.”

I bowed as well, but it made me dizzy. I faltered and almost fell.

The King stepped passed us. “Get your son inside, while I deal with mine.”

I tried to see who he meant, but I fainted.