Unwittingly

Six

Somewhere with a Monarchy, 1835

Today was probably going to be the best day of the entire celebration. I would be sneaking out of my room and going with the men to a fencing match, instead of being at a beauty parlor all day. Supposedly, the third day was a day to form bonds with the people who were a part of the celebration along with you. The men would be doing that through vigorous exercise and rewarding jests, and the women would be forming bonds over cucumber face masks, nail color, and hair styles. To be completely honest, I would much rather go and compete against the men, to prove that I earned my father's ring.

"Come on, Emray, we'll be late!" Rosalie called from the hallway where she was waiting for me to finish getting ready. I still didn't understand why I had to get ready this morning, considering the whole beauty parlor day today.

"One second!" I called through the door of my room, getting impatient with the beauty routine that my attendants were putting me through.

"You're so slow! I'm going to go down to the parlor so that I'm not late. See you soon!" Rosalie called, and I heard her heels click clack down the corridor.

"She seems interesting..." Tyra laughed, finishing putting on my tunic. I was fencing with the boys.

~o0o~

I snuck passed the parlor, keeping a low profile so that the women wouldn't know I was passing them by with my fencing sword, a pure white uniform, fencing helmet, and my hair in a tight bun. If I could beat my father, I could beat any of the men easily in a fair match.

I knew I was going the right way when my ears perked up at the sound of metal clanging onto metal, and the different yells that happened in a high stakes fencing match.

"En garde!" I heard multiple voices yell at the same time as I walked into a massive room.

It was much bigger than the dinning hall and entrance hall combined. It was more like three of both of them.

Before anyone saw who I was, I slipped the helmet over my head and walked to the center of the room, where it looked like the losers were standing, waiting for an opponent.

"You want to fence?" I asked the nearest ma in a deep impression of a man's voice.

"Sure, let's go," he replied, and we walked to the nearest open area.

"En garde!" I yelled, and we launched into the majestic deadly dance.

Metal clanged on metal. Sweat dripped down my face. I started panting, and there wasn't a place to capture the high ground. My opponent was skilled in the art of offence, but so was I. Honestly, fencing was won or lost by a person's ability to deflect, and my opponent didn't really know how to do it. 

Finally, I thrusted my sword into his chest area, effectively ending the match with me as the victor.

"Good match, man," he said, walking up to me and we slapped hands.

"Yeah, man, good match," I responded in an equally gruff voice, almost breaking down in laughter at the man language I was speaking.

"You're really good," the guy said before turning around and walking away.

I won my next three matches, my opponents getting stronger and stronger. But I had trained with my father who was tall, fast, and smart. These boys were nothing compared to him.

I would always shake the other guy's hand after I beat them, and they would leave my lane. At first, I hadn't wanted to draw any attention during this fencing, but I decided that it was nice to see the crowd of men watching my every move as I deliberately outsmarted whoever thought that they could beat me.