(I swear posted this, but it doesn’t show in my posts??)

——

Hale doesn’t care for much.

Her family and her sword. That’s the basics. Sure there’s a bit more, but those are biggest ones.

Her title is not something she relishes in. Being a princess has only hindered her in training.

People don’t take her seriously. They underestimate her. The General, or just Gen, says that it’s a good thing. That when people think they know you, that’s when you can surprise them. You have the advantage them.

But it doesn’t make it any less frustrating.

Other knights have respect for her as a princess. When it comes to her in battle? They couldn’t see her as anything more than a delicate doll.

Which is wild when all Allaver Royals learn to fight.

Perhaps it’s because she is a woman. Her two older sisters do not share the same passion for training as she does. And it would probably be different if she were her brothers.

The annoyance fuels her. It gets her blood pumping and her muscles flexing. It creates this unbridled energy in her that just wants to come out.

So she proves herself to the soldiers that look down on her. Every day.

If that’s what it takes. She’ll fight for the rest of her life.

“Sparring match between Lev and Hale,” Gen orders.

Lev is not one of the knights that dislikes her. He just doesn’t care. He’s indifferent.

They enter the ring and hold up their weapons of choice.

For Hale, it’s her trusty blade. Lev chooses an an axe which is a bit out of place in Allaver. The common weapon is a sword.

“Ready, fight!”

Immediately Hale swings. A fight is a push and pull. Sometimes you attack first to control the fight and gauge your opponent’s reaction. Sometimes you wait and analyze.

She does the former.

Lev easily dodges it and she can see his studying gaze, shifting eyes on her every move.

She can’t give him a moment to come up with her style.

Her movements are a flurry of attacks, her sword coming close on her last swipe. He manages to block it at the last second. “You’re good,” he compliments.

It’s nice to hear. But being fueled by validation from others is dangerous. You need to do it for you. That’s what Gen always says.

Instead of verbally responding, she pushes forward. Their blades meet. She swears sparks fly with the amount of force they both use.

In one fluid move, she leans back, spinning on her knee to get out of the way of Lev falling. Momentum is vital. It can the reason you make a fatal strike, and it can be the reason for a failure.

He stumbles but stays on his feet, losing his axe.

Not one to waste an opportunity, Hale kicks him square in the back, which finally gets him to the ground.

Lev is good though. He absorbs her kick and rolls and retrieves his weapon. Acting quickly, he swings out his axe in front of him. She counters it with her sword.

The shock of his speedy recovery does throw her off balance. Lev pushes harder and does the same to her by using her momentum against her when he leans away from the force.

Hale gets her sword and digs the point into the ground, catching herself, now having a pillar of support.

They are more similar than she first thought because he takes a swipe at her as she is righting herself.

She tries to dodge, but the metal shallowly cuts into her upper arm.

“The fight is over,” Gen commands.

Lev bested her.

The sting of the wound is nothing compared to her pride.

Gen puts out a hand. You don’t deny help from the general, so she takes it. “Good job. Both of you.”

It’s not often that someone gets overt accolades from him. Screw the no validation from others. It’s nice sometimes.

“Hale, your initial approach was effective. Don’t let your opponent learn what your next move is, but you let Lev learn _from_ you. Lev, good adapting. You didn’t underestimate your opponent. You need to be better with your momentum.”

After they both nod in acknowledgement of his critiques, Gen leaves them to another pair.

“You have some serious skills,” Lev says.

“Thanks. You too.”

She walks over to the medical corner that’s on the training grounds. Grabbing a bandage, she begins to disinfect and wrap her cut.

He follows her, maybe out of curiosity.

“Aren’t you going to heal that?” He questions.

She had been expecting that question. Many people think because she is a royal, Miracle healer, she doesn’t know pain.

So far removed that she’s never experienced it.

But she seeks it out.

“Scars are a reminder,” she answers.

He looks puzzled which does shift her mood. She can practically see his confusion, the gears turning in his head.

It’s a fun game for her.

“A reminder of what?” He finally settles on.

Finishing up her bandage, her fingers trace another scar just under this fresh cut. It’s jagged and ugly, but it’s one of her favorites.

“Of what I’ve learned.”

———

(I’m back! My vacation was great but they are draining for me so I’m so relieved to be back home! That means back to writing!)