The first inkling Irenis gets of morning is the sun gently pouring into her room. She’s confused for a moment; doesn’t her closet’s window face northeast? Shouldn’t it be stabbing her in the eyes? Then she remembers she finally made it to the Verith castle, with all its strangeness.

Irenis gets up, puts up her hair, and dresses for training. Then she sneaks out of the guest rooms and finds a maid. “Excuse me. Could you direct me to the training grounds, please?”

The maid beams down at her. “I certainly can! Straight down this hallway, down the stairs, past the hot springs—”

Oh, hot springs! That explains how the baths stayed hot!

“—and out the door at the end of the hallway, and you’ll get right onto the training grounds! First you’ll want to find Captain Bernsek. He’s about yea tall—” She waves her hand about a head above her own. “—with brown hair and purple eyes, and he wears a helmet with a purple band, so you’ll be able to find him easily. He’ll see where you are in your training and put you in the appropriate group.”

Irenis bows. “Thank you!” That’s really, really helpful!

“Any time.” The maid walks off. Irenis heads the other direction, toward the baths.

She hesitates at the exterior door. She’s never gotten to train with knights before. What if the Verith knights push her off the field, like her cousins did?

…well, her cousins hated her for being a bastard and a stain on the family’s honor. The Veriths don’t know that yet, unless Sir Gurstel and his friends have beat her onto the field. And she was trained by Calon of Druig. Being the student of a legend should earn her some leeway if she can tell the captain before it gets out that she’s a bastard.

Irenis breathes in, breathes out, and opens the door.

The sun blazes down on the training grounds already (Irenis sneezes). There are knights everywhere, doing drills or sparring in groups. Off to the side are people Irenis’s age, going through basic drills. Irenis sticks to the edges of the yard until she spots a purple helmet and brown hair. Purple eyes, brown hair, yea tall. That’s Captain Bernsek.

Okay. Just gotta talk to him. Irenis squares her shoulders and marches up to the captain. “Excuse me, Captain Bernsek?”

“Yes?” The captain, a younger man, looks down at her and blinks. “Hi, why aren’t you with the other trainees?”

Irenis bows. “I am Irenis, sent with the Casmenoc reinforcements. May I train with your knights?”

“Uh. Yes. Why were you sent here?”

Oh, no, not The Question.

“No, never mind that. Who taught you, and what skill level are you at?” Captain Bernsek kneels down a little. Is that just how the Veriths speak to smaller people? Margrave Verith did so as well.

Irenis swallows and looks him in the eye. “I was taught by swordmaster Calon of Druig.”

“Were you really? I heard the… Casmenocs… hired him…” Captain Bernsek trails off.

“Yes. He trained me on the side.”

“I see!” Captain Bernsek stands up and offers her his hand. “Well, come along. The trainees will benefit from having a new opponent.”

Irenis follows him over to the trainees, who all stare at her. Then one, a half-elf boy with red hair and faintly purple skin, shrugs and steps forward. “Welcome! I’m Cinmahr Verith!”

Irenis blinks and bows. “Irenis, from the Casmenoc estate.”

Another boy, with black hair and a sneer, rolls his eyes. “She must be a commoner,” he whispers to a friend. “Wonder how long she’ll hold out?”

Cinmahr whirls and whacks him on the ear with his training sword. “We’ve told you to knock it off! Commoners are no weaker than nobles!”

Captain Bernsek says sharply, “That’s enough. Cinmahr, two laps for hitting a classmate. Modred, three laps for discriminatory behavior.”

Both boys glare and start running opposite directions.

Irenis blinks and barely keeps from gaping. A mere captain just scolded nobles? And got away with it?

Captain Bernsek turns to her. “Lesson one: You don’t have to put up with people being cruel to you because they’re noble. What matters to us is not bloodline, but the quality of your swordsmanship and your character.”

What.

Irenis is set to drilling with the instructor. This is easy. She just breathes and remembers how Master Calon taught her. Block, parry, stroke.

How is Master Calon? He’ll have returned to the Casmenocs by now. Did he ask after her, or was he just glad to have some time to himself? She did pester him quite a bit. He was safe to pester. He never shouted in anger nor raised his hand against her. Dodge, parry, step, stroke.

She misses him. If Irenis had her way, he’d be here with her, nodding in approval when she does something right. Slide in under his guard and stroke.

But Irenis never gets her way if others wish for theirs. She’d best make her peace with that.

Block, step away, step in.

—

Bernsek of Virit is common as dirt in appearance, blood, and name. Being raised to captain of a noble knightage was a shock to him, and he’s done his best in the intervening year to live up to the trust placed in him. His predecessor, whose retirement predicated Bernsek’s promotion, recommended Bernsek on account of his keen eye and steady temper.

Both are serving him well right now.

The Casmenoc knights are truly a mixed bag. The good ones shine, the mediocre ones are at least the high end of average, but the bad apples are so rotted that they’ve ruined the sack they came in.

And Sir Gurstel, baron and fully aware of his rank, is the worst offender of them all. Already he has ignored Bernsek’s authority, sexually harassed two dame knights (one of whom is just eighteen and new to her title, but that only seemed to encourage Gurstel), and established himself as an obnoxious braggart, especially when drunk. If he and his hangers-on were the only knights sent from the Casmenoc margravate, Bernsek would ask Maedis to refuse all future Casmenoc reinforcements.

Thankfully, they are not the only Casmenoc knights. A few stand out in a good way.

Dame Meitha, as dedicated to femininity as she is, doesn’t let her preference for pinks and curls stop her from being a good knight. Despite Dame Asnathe’s sniping about how perfumes and makeup are useless on the battlefield, Meitha is holding her own against the Verith knights easily.

Dame Tamnet is good with the trainees and a decent knight. If she turns out to be trustworthy, Bernsek will recommend her to be trained as a teacher.

The girl-who-had-better-be-a-trainee, Irenis, is a brilliant knight-to-be with perfect control of her body and any sword she’s handed. She even seems to have a grasp of basic aura. But she isolates herself from her peers, wielding the social defense with the same grace that she uses a physical shield. In addition, she’s terrified of all adults save Sir Jacryn.

Sir Jacryn… honestly, Bernsek would like to like him! He’s polite to Bernsek, he snaps back at Gurstel, and he respects the female knights, which is an appallingly low bar! In addition, he lets both Dame Jona and Irenis hide behind him when Gurstel is at his worst. Irenis especially seems to trust him. But his swordsmanship is sloppy, and he grips his weapon so tightly that it further limits his abilities. He’ll need remedial training before he goes out to the ramparts. How would Calon of Druig miss such an amateur mistake? Utterly baffling.

Jacryn walks past Bernsek to the water barrel, Irenis trailing after him so closely that she nearly steps on the backs of his shoes. Jacryn, for his part, makes sure that Irenis drinks before he does. It’s kind of him. Bernsek comes over as well, slowly enough that Irenis has time to make herself scarce. “Are you her escort knight?”

Jacryn snorts. “Self-assigned. The more I hear the other knights talk about her treatment back at the Casmenocs, the more important I find it to be a decent adult to her, now that she doesn’t have Master Calon to stand behind her.”

“Very honorable of you.”

Irenis is now training with Cinmahr, the margravine’s nephew and inheritor of her temper in the face of dishonor. He’ll keep her safe from bullies.

Jacryn makes to reply, but freezes and whips his head around. “One moment, if you please. GURSTEL! If you’re so eager for a spar, then come fight someone your own size!”

Gurstel turns around and Jona makes her escape while he’s distracted. Jacryn stalks toward him, unsheathing his sword. Bernsek downs the last of his water and follows Jacryn.

Just in time, a page comes sprinting into the yard. “The margravine’s back!”

Behind him, riding in on her great black charger, comes the honorable Margravine Dame Bealuen Verith.