The Dragon's Clause

Chapter 10: Delicious

You hadn't seen much of the Duke after your initial meeting over tea, until the two of you had dinner together. He'd been busy with work he'd been unable to do during the campaign along the border, and according to Koala it would take him a couple days to get caught up, even with help from Hack.

Early next morning you were at the training grounds, warming up when Sabo came out to join you. The estate guards were lined up around the training grounds, at ease and talking amongst themselves while they waited. Word had gone through the entire estate like wildfire, and you were certain there were quite a few servants watching as closely as they dared.

Over dinner you'd both talked about certain limitations to the spar, and agreed on wooden swords, and no magic. It wasn't that you couldn't use it, it was that you'd never been allowed the chance to meld your magic and your sword play together. The kind of magic needed for it was advanced, and that level of magic left evidence that you couldn't risk. You didn't believe your Uncle was himself checking to see what magic residue was in your room, nor was he requesting someone else check.

But the risk was beyond what you were willing to take, and practicing your forms alone was enough to appease your own desires.

That conversation at dinner is probably how the entire estate knew by morning. Not that you could blame anyone, if you were a maid in a household and heard the Lord and his new fiance talking about crossing swords, you wouldn't be able to keep your mouth shut either.

Sabo yawns mightily as he stands across from you, and gives you a smile as Hack and Koala sit down nearby. "Koala thinks you might break my nose, since I didn't get much sleep last night, but I promise if you do I'll accept it as my own fault." His smile is bright, despite the weariness in his eyes.

He appeared to be in the same clothes he had on yesterday, having shed the dress coat, in nothing but loose long-sleeved shirt and a vest. The pants and the boots were the same, but there was no ruffled tie around his neck, and no pocket watch chain at his belt. He might have prioritized his work, but he wasn't being dismissive of the spar by any stretch.

"That's reassuring to hear, your grace." You say, stepping into your opening stance.

The sword style your father favored, the one that he taught all the northern border knights, was more fluid than other styles of the continent. It was developed for the beasts of the wild, but it was just as effective against human opponents. The differences in shifting from one form to another could be disorienting, and when paired with magic created a larger effect than should be possible.

To you, that was what made it beautiful, and while there was no magic dancing around your blade you'd always been able to envision it. You were looking forward to requesting the right to begin training it properly from Sabo. Win or lose, your current impression of him is that he wouldn't deny you.

The stances for the forms were also a little wider than was common, and the actions were less like stone and more like water. The sharp clipped movements of most knights were efficient and effective, but the fluid transition of your style wasted less energy, maintaining movement and momentum from one step to the next. It was harder to learn, and harder to master, so it wasn't ideal for large groups to learn.

"Are you requesting I go easy on you?" You question as he moves into position himself.

A smile slips across his lips. "Not at all, my lady."

You dash toward him, watching as his eyes widened a little, his wooden sword coming up to meet yours almost a split second too late. The parry was at an awkward angle for him, but he was heavier than you and shifting his weight was enough to give him a chance to push your sword away and give himself a little space. The flurry you unleashed after that was knocked aside a little more easily than the first strike and you smiled.