Till Death Do Us Part

7. Uninvited Guests

"N-no, my lady. But I really shouldn't..." the man stuttered hesitantly, handing her his sheathed sword.

"Relax, there's no one here. It will be our little secret. You can sit down and rest now while I do my thing."

Skylar unsheathed the sword and tried a few simple swings. It wasn't an excellent sword. It was a bit on a heavier side, nowhere near the custom-made sword she had left at home, but it would do.

Preston slumped on the grass, leaning at the tree trunk, watching her with a mixture of confusion and awe. She ignored him and went through different stances, slowly performing each strike and parry. It was like dancing with an invisible opponent. Her body was used to the routine, and she didn't have to think– her muscles knew all the steps and sequences.

When the sun rose over the horizon, painting everything in red and gold, Skylar felt very satisfying fatigue in all her muscles. She lowered the sword and wiped salty sweat that was flooding her eyes and making them sting.

She came over to Preston, who was scribbling something in a small notebook and plumped to the grass, stretching her arms.

"See, all done already. Let me catch my breath, and we can get back so that I can play a good, noble lady again," she said with a grin.

"That was the reason why you requested me to remain as your guard, wasn't it?" Preston asked grudgingly. "So, you can use my sword for training?"

"Well, I'm not going to lie. That was the main reason."

"Oh, I see," the man said grumpily.

"Come now, Preston. We are not that different from each other. We are both stuck in roles we didn't ask for. From what I've heard, you had been forced to become a soldier by your family. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, my lady."

"And I was a soldier and then was forced to leave the army and become a pretty little ornament in the General's mansion. See the similarities?"

"Yes, I do.  I have to say, my lady, you are a real expert with a sword," said Preston, his mood instantly improving.

"Thank you. That's about the only thing I'm good at," Sky said with a sigh. "What are you scribbling?"

"Oh, it's nothing," the man said, looking away from her, his cheeks red. "Just a little sketch."

"Can I see?"

"Erm, it's nothing special, really..." he mumbled but reluctantly handed her the notepad.

Sky went through the pages with awe. "It's amazing," she said, looking at tiny pictures. They were indeed rough sketches but had so many details that they looked incredibly lifelike. They mainly depicted her in different fighting stances, so if she flipped the pages quickly, it seemed as if a little figure was moving. "So, that's what you are good at?"

"It is, but as you know, my lady, it's not a very masculine skill to have," Preston said timidly, still not looking at her.

"Like fencing is not ladylike?" she asked with a smile.

He turned to her and smiled back. And for the first time, it looked sincere. "Yes, I guess it's very similar, my lady."

"See, I told you we are the same. If someone is going to follow me around, I'd rather it's someone who can understand me."

"I must say, my lady, when you put my sword to my neck, I was sure I was a goner."

"I'm sorry about that. I was pissed at the time, and you were unlucky enough to be the first person I bumped into."