Arian tried her best to hide the minor identity crisis she was having from the rest of the people in the room. She played with the grey fabric of her skirt, the texture on her fingers helping her build a wall to block her emotions. As Gwen was finishing her letter, Marquess Hartfield began to speak.

“Since you are from a country so distant, it may take quite a bit of time to find a way for you to return. You may be here in Maltisha for longer than you expected.”

“I am just grateful to have found such kind and compassionate hosts while I am here.”

Gerald smiled at her statement, but the smile did not reach his eyes. She had seen that kind of expression on the faces of host families she had lived with. A face that knew upon your arrival that you were not a good fit for their family.

It was the smile of an accommodating host that was already waiting for you to leave. Seeing this, Arian wondered again, why was he adopting her so readily?

“I will call for a tutor to come to the estate. As a foreigner, you might need some instruction to adjust to the customs of Maltisha.”

The depression that immediately overwhelmed Arian was almost physical. Truly the gods of homework and school were laughing at her from somewhere up in the sky. She had celebrated that era of her life being over two nights ago, just to be deposited back in a situation where she had to receive more schooling.

Get thrown through a magic wall by my boss. Fine. Have her turn into a bird and abandon me. Fine. Face off with a knight to protect a damsel. Fine. Walk for hours through the woods to arrive safely at my new rich dad’s house. Fine. Go back to school and learn more things. Not fine.

After Gwen’s letter had sufficiently dried, the lawyer put both documents into a large envelope and gave it back to the duke. Red wax was poured on the flap and stamped with the Hartfield eagle signet ring he wore. With a stiff bow, the lawyer left the room. The marquess opened a drawer and pulled out five small pouches.

“Would you please deliver these, along with your thanks, to the knights before you go to town?”

“Of course, Uncle,” Gwen said with a smile, “I would be delighted to deliver the reward for the task of ensuring our safety.”

They walked out to the training grounds, which Arian was very interested to see. She wondered if she would be allowed to utilize them herself. While she had been trained with traditional Eastern style weapons at her dojo, the human body was the true instrument.

Weapons had slight variations that could influence fighting, but the real mechanics were rooted in the bones, muscles, and joints. She would train with anything she had access to; the foundation was all the same.

As they walked into the small training yard, men bowed courteously to Gwen, and smatterings of “my lady” were heard from exhausted mouths. It didn’t take long to locate the knights, and as Gwen presented them with their reward, Arian meandered over to look at some swords.

“YOU CANNOT BE HERE!”

Stunned, she turned towards the person yelling to see a large balding man with massive sideburns standing a safe distance away from her. Arian did not know what she had done wrong, and awkwardly stood there to see if he would elaborate, but his angry reddish eyes just glowered at her.

“Are women in this country not allowed to participate in any form of self-defense?”

“That would be an abomination,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Arian smirked as she gently ran her finger down the blade of the sword closest to her.

“I’ve been called worse,” she said with a wink as she turned to walk back to Gwen.

Gwen and the knights were looking at her as she approached, the yelling man had drawn the attention of the whole training yard.

“I seem to have committed a grave sin,” Arian said in a sarcastic tone, “that knight seems to hate me.”

One of the knights standing with Gwen shifted, obviously uncomfortable.

“That’s no knight, my lady,” he paused briefly to wet his lips before continuing, “he’s a common mercenary. He serves no house and his presence here is rather confusing.”

“Has he been employed here long?” Arian asked Gwen, worried that his employment would meet up with the beginning of her courtship with the prince.

“I am not sure,” she said. Her facial features drew in tight with concentration, “I believe he has been here for a few years, but he was put in a leadership position of some sort a few months ago. He has been in the house a lot more since then.”

The knights all exchanged uncomfortable looks with one another but did not say anything. There was something concerning about Gwen’s response that they did not want to acknowledge.

Arian turned back around to look, and the man was still there, staring at her with furious eyes. She was unsure of the reason she had earned this man’s wrath, but it meant that the training grounds were not going to be a place that she could frequent.

All behavior was communication and his boiling rage towards her meant something, she just didn’t know what it meant yet.