The War of The Magi : Book One

Chapter Thirty One

Magnar brushed his fingers through his hair, grasping the ends. His father and Senea walked in front of him, slow and steady steps through the lighted halls. He was asking questions every few steps, simple things that Magnar had gone over with her in their study sessions. Senea would try her hardest to respond back with the correct answer, but her words would stumble and falter. His father would let out a small grunt or hum and continue on with the next question. It wasn't until Magnere realized she had much more to learn that he averted his questions to etiquette. He questioned her on when she should curtsy, when it was acceptable for a person to kneel in her presence versus bowing or saluting, when she should begin eating at a supper with guests. It was here that she shined, surprisingly to Magnar and he began to think that perhaps he just wasn't good at teaching. He was also shocked to see how much she had learned about Yasdenia from Zephir, once his father began to question her about the far off city.

They had made their way to the outside practice arena that Magnar had used in teaching her combat. His father grasped a practice sword in his hand and turned on the balls of his feet towards Senea, extending the hilt for her to take. Her reaction was laugh worthy to Magnar, but he showed no emotion. "You expect me to duel you in a gown." It was clear her response wasn't a question but rather an observation.

Magnere shrugged his broad shoulders, keeping the hilt extended to her. "Your grandmother fought valiantly in a much heavier gown than the one you're wearing. Just because you're a queen to be doesn't mean that a battle will stop for you to be changed."

She grasped the hilt in her hand, pulling it from the Lord Commander. "Then why wear this? If I'm expected to fight, shouldn't I be in armor?"

Magnere gave her a small smile and Magnar recognized it as the one he gave to him when he did a job well done. Pride swelled in his heart as he moved to hand his father the other practice sword. "It's tradition for the queen to be well dressed. Besides, do you not realize how many daggers can be hidden in a gown?" Magnere snatched the practice sword from his son's grasp and made the first motion, extending the wooden blade out towards her.

"Do you not realize how long it would take to unsheathe said daggers lifting a gown?" Senea made the next move, pressing her own sword against his. "Or how indecent it would be to bare the legs of the queen?"

Magnere's smile grew into a grin and they began the fight. Her feet were unsteady and she silently cursed the heels. Her legs weren't able to move freely and she was quick to move from a blow she was about to receive before stumbling back.

Magnar made a motion to help her but stopped as he saw his father's hand raise towards him. "You have good form, but lack finesse."

Senea proceeded to glare at the back handed comment and walked over to Magnar. The Lord Commander raised his brows in a questioning look before realizing that she had unsheathed his dagger and proceeded to make a slit in her dress. She tossed the dagger to the ground and walked back in front of Magnere, extending her blade and happy to have the freedom back to her legs.

With that quick adjustment, Senea was able to block attacks and steady herself despite the heels. She wanted to prove to not only the Lord Commander of her army but to Magnar as well that she could succeed. The loud clank of the swords smacking against each other resonated through the quiet court. It was the only sound until they heard clapping coming from the door they had entered. A few guards had looked in and were bewitched at watching them duel. With that distraction, Senea grinned and smacked Magnere against his arm, earning a yelp as a reward.

Magnar let out a grunted chuckle as more clapping erupted. "So that would be your sword arm that would be bleeding, correct?"

The Lord Commander gave her a roguish grin. "I would be highly concerned if my commander only knew how to fight with just his sword hand."

Senea wasn't prepared for what happened next. In one quick and easy flourish, Magnere was now holding the practice sword in his other hand and began to attack quicker than before. Senea could barely block the attacks, backing away from the man and falling down to the ground. She dodged his next attack and rolled away from the next. "I yield!" Senea yelled out, tossing the practice sword to the ground.

Magnere gave her a small look and extended his hand to help her up. "Magnar, escort her grace back to her room to be cleaned up. Don't let your mother see her."

"Yes, sir," Magnar responded and made his way back towards the door.

"You fight passionately, your majesty. That's something that cannot be taught." Once she took his hand and he had lifted her up with ease she had noticed the fine lines and wrinkles across his face and forehead.

"Thank you, Lord Commander." She began turning towards the door and stopped once she saw him salute and then bow. She returned the salute she had seen so many times in the past few days and curtsied in response.

She made her way to the door, brushing off her dress as she moved. She and Magnar began the long walk back to her room and they both heard in the distance Magnere questioning the guards who had witnessed the duel. "We should take this far staircase so my mother doesn't have a fit over your torn dress."

"I'm surprised you're talking to me so calmly." Magnar turned and looked down at her, giving her a questioning look. "The past few days you've been so uptight and stubborn."

"I haven't been stubborn," he responded back in a short tone. Senea responded back in a loud huff. "I was given strict orders to teach you the proper way to fight, the history of your family and Itod, and how to read a map. Wouldn't that make you a bit uptight?"

Once they reached the staircase and he looked at her, he saw a deeply heated glare at him. "Of course it would, but you haven't been the one learning all of that and how to properly sit and eat and talk and wear your hair and curtsy and I could go on and on with what your mother has taught me! Not to mention a new language you know nothing about and their customs and culture." She began making her way up the steps, holding her dress in one hand as the other held onto the wall for support.

Magnar grasped the hand that held the wall and spun her to look at him. She half expected him to berate her for complaining about her life and held her glare and firmed her frown. It wasn't until she saw how soft and kind his face was that her own began to soften. "I apologize. I hadn't thought of how you would handle this and I shouldn't have expected you to take it well."

She quirked a brow up and let out a small scoff. "Is that all?" They were practically face to face, the two steps up giving Senea a slight height advantage.

"What?"

"You apologize. Is that it?"

Magnar began to blink, his thought process moving quickly. "What else do you want from me?"

She let out a huff and began moving up the stairs again. "Unbelievable. You are absolutely the densest man ever."

He held his grip on her wrist firm and closed the gap between them. He began to whisper, realizing how close they were to the top of the enclosed staircase. "Senea," he began, his mind searching for the words, "you're angry with me, aren't you?"

She turned on her feet and pulled her wrist from his grip. "Yes," she replied simply.

"Why?"

A million reasons began to rampage through her thoughts. She took a breath and glanced up the stairs, shaking her head at him and began to move again. She turned her head slightly back to Magnar and whispered, "We shall discuss it in my room."