Determined to take control of their fates, Arjen and Arien escape Derolina Castle at the age of sixteen after their cruel mother dies. They adopt new names and find a home in the city of Aramore, while the Emperor of Yuriana searches for his missing...
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Arien walked out the back door of the shop to the sound of wood smacking wood in the courtyard. She stopped and balanced the laundry-laden basket in her arms, watching as Arjen and Lord Farnell sparred with two long pieces of wood that acted as practice swords. Her brother's face glowed with a sheen of sweat, something she observed curiously. She had never seen him sweat so much, except for the time when they ran from the emperor.
Unlike Arjen, Lord Farnell never broke a sweat. Arien noted the pleasant smile on his face. He appeared to be enjoying himself quite a bit, but she guessed he was holding back from demonstrating his full ability against Arjen.
Lord Farnell side-stepped another attack from Arjen and chuckled. "Very good," he said. "You're a fast learner."
Arjen pulled back, panting. The serious look he had worn melted. "Really?"
"Absolutely. You've been able to repeat what I've shown you within the first few tries."
Pride exuded from Arjen's countenance, and he grinned. "I guess so."
Arien couldn't help but smile, too. Arjen had been happy lately. Over the last few days, Lord Farnell had been teaching them aspects of swordsmanship and magic. What little Arjen had learned so far, he had already shown improvements in his abilities. Even Arien was impressed. Did he really have talent for swordsmanship?
Arien also showed a marked development in her own skills, and Lord Farnell had commented on her aptitude for magic. In the past, it would've taken her a week to learn a complex spell on her own, but now, it would only take her a day to master it, all thanks to Lord Farnell's guidance.
Maybe we really did inherit some smarts from the imperial family.
Lord Farnell saw her holding the basket and walked over. "Allow me, Miss Nellie." He took the heavy basket from her arms and brought it over to where a tub of hot water had been prepared. The washboard lay beside it, and the clothes line had been strung nearby. "You don't take your laundry to a launderer?" he asked.
Arien chuckled. "No. We don't need anyone to do it for us. Daniel and I have been doing our own laundry for ages."
"...Really?"
"Of course. You probably have servants to do yours, huh?"
"Well, yes."
Arjen sat on the ground, exhausted. "We've been doing our laundry since we were big enough. Our...parents taught us how."
A troubled look crossed Lord Farnell's handsome face. His voice dropped. "How long have you been doing these things on our own?"
"I dunno, since before we were ten?" Arjen lifted a shoulder.
Arien studied the nobleman closely. Sometimes he would act a little upset when they told him something about their lives, and she wasn't sure why. It shouldn't bother him that two commoners did their own laundry, cooked for themselves, worked for a living, or were never fully educated. Commoner children learned early on how to do basic household chores. Of course, he wouldn't understand that, being of much higher status and all. His own parents probably never wiped his butt when he was baby.
