by Aya Ling
Ari bought the belt right on spot. She would have liked to buy a couple of more—she had never seen any silken belts in Linderall—but she only had a few silvers left in her purse.
By noontime, Ari’s stomach was growling; she couldn’t wait to have lunch. Georgiana finally arrived, with not only a pair of new boots but also a new quiver.
“They’re having a sale on archery products,” she said, proudly displaying the quiver. “Feel how thick and smooth the leather is. I’m tired of having arrows boring holes into my old quiver. And see the stitches along the side? Their strength can probably hold up to more than fifty arrows. Lance once had a quiver that was so badly made, it split when he was walking and arrows were all over the ground!”
Ari considered showing off her purchases, but decided against it. Georgiana wouldn’t be impressed.
“Let’s have lunch,” she proposed.
“Right! I’m starving! Here, this way.”
The stall Georgiana mentioned sold fried potatoes cut in strips and offered three kinds of sauces for dipping: basil, cheese, and mushroom. A queue of a dozen people lined up at the stall. No doubt it was very popular.
Ari and Georgiana each purchased a bag of fried potatoes. Since chairs weren’t available, they had to stand and munch away. Ari was mortified—she was a princess! But she was too hungry to look for a place to sit, so she ate away in the best manner she could.
“Isn’t that Princess Valeria?” Georgiana suddenly said, pointing at a plump young woman. “Let’s go and say hello.”
Ari blinked twice. Surely the future queen of Riviera couldn’t be bothered to buy food from a street stall. Surely she wouldn’t be dressed in a plain linen gown and was licking basil sauce off her fingers. But then the young woman happened to look over in their direction, and there was no mistaking the round face, rosy cheeks, and dimpled chin.
“Why, hello, Arianna! And this is George Greenwood, isn’t it?”
Georgiana brightened. Although she wasn’t well acquainted with Valeria, she was gratified that the princess called her by her preferred name.
“So how are the lessons now?” Valeria wanted to know. “I heard that you injured one of the Quelans in archery. They didn’t seek retribution, I hope?”
Ari shook her head, though it didn’t make her feel any better. In class, she could still feel hostility radiating like waves from Boris and other Quelans.
They chatted for a while, and Valeria said she had to be going back to the palace. “I have to meet Ralph later for tea, but I really must drop by the kitchens first and tell them about this marvelous place. Maybe I can persuade them to serve fried potatoes with the dippings in the Academy someday.”
“That would be great!” Ari exclaimed. Who knew fried potatoes could be so delicious?
Valeria departed. Due to her size, she bumped into a man carrying a load of apples, causing several apples fall on the ground. The princess immediately apologized and squatted down to pick them up.
Unbelievable. Ari remembered a time she ran into the laundress and caused a heap of dresses tumble on the floor, but she never bothered to help.
She was still watching Valeria pick up the last apple when she felt Georgiana touch her arm.
“There’s something burning,” Georgiana said, sniffing in the air.
Ari took a deep breath. Sure enough, the smell of smoke was surprisingly near. When she looked down, she shrieked and jumped three feet in the air.
“Aaaah!”
The ends of her hair and the hem of her right sleeve had caught fire. She had not noticed a stove nearby, the ashes still hot from a previous cooking.
Dancing around like a maniac, Ari flapped her arms and tried to stamp out the fire on her burning sleeve, while Georgiana managed to put out the fire in her hair by grabbing a large rag and smothering the flames. Fortunately, the fire was small enough and they put it out in no time.
But the disaster was done. The laces were completely burnt off the sleeve. Due to her stamping, Ari made further damage by ripping off a large piece of silk, right up to the elbow. Not to mention her hair. Her pretty golden tresses had blackened ends several inches long.
Ari wanted to find a corner to curl up and cry.
“Are you all right?” a voice said somewhere behind them.
Ari didn’t want to turn around. She knew who was speaking. Perhaps if she didn’t answer, he would think he mistook her for someone else and walk away.
“Your Highness,” Georgiana had a tone of repressed excitement in her voice. “Arianna—it’s nothing serious, she accidentally caught fire.”
Busted.
Prince James approached her, and something settled on her shoulders, warm and reassuring.
“Here, Arianna,” he said. “Button up and no one will see the burned dress. Or your hair.”
Ari pulled the cloak around her and then looked at him briefly. “Thank you. Now let me disappear.”
He wore an amused expression. “You’d hardly be able to conceal yourself like this. Just be more careful next time.”
“There will be no ‘next time.’” Ari looked horrified at the very idea.
James laughed. “I’d hate to deprive myself of your company, but I see you are eager to be gone. ’Til next time, my dear princess.”
Once back in the carriage, Georgiana looked at her and raised her eyebrows. “He seems to like you.”
“I highly doubt it,” Ari said. The first time she met him, she was dressed in plain clothes and wore no makeup. And when she was dressed in a beautiful gown, she just had the luck to have her hair and clothes burnt—right before him! He couldn’t possibly be attracted to her. What prince would be interested in an average-looking girl when there were so many fine-looking ladies at court?
“But he gave you his cloak!”
Ari didn’t answer; she was more preoccupied with her dress. She looked sadly at her burnt sleeve. There was a lot of lace and velvet in it, not to mention that the dress was of an unusual color. She had only worn the dress once, and now she’d never be able to wear it again.
Seeing Ari’s pained expression, Georgiana patted her arm. “Honestly, I don’t understand why you’re so fond of dresses, but since you are feeling so bad about it, I can see if I can get it fixed. There’s bound to be a tailor who can salvage the dress, even if it looks pretty awful.”
Ari didn’t think that it was possible, but she nodded.
It was bad enough losing her gown, which she had spent so much on in Tintagel. But it was even worse when she had to trim off her burnt hair.
Her short hair brought some surprise and speculation in the Academy, though thankfully, no one guessed the real reason. Someone guessed that Ari accidentally cut off a chunk of her own hair when practicing with a sword, which probably wasn’t a better reason than catching fire by a stove, but few people believed the story. They were still practicing with wooden staffs. Given Ari’s deep aversion for weapons, it was difficult to believe that she would be using real swords for practice.
Ari was obviously devastated by the hair loss—she had adored her golden tresses—but she didn’t have time to dwell on her loss. Not being resourceful enough (the result of being a pampered princess), she still hadn’t found a way to escape the Academy.
Moreover, a recent incident in unarmed combat class had forced her to rethink her attitude.
It happened on a bright, sunny day—good weather was actually hard to come by in Riviera, which was mostly cloudy and windy. Even the most ardent students, such as Georgiana, looked longingly at the forest yonder and dreamed of frolicking in the sunshine rather than beating the crap out of each other.
“Over here, people!” Giles, as usual, was exuberant. Today he was practically rubbing his hands with glee. “Today—is the day you’ve been waiting for!”
Ari had a strong sense of pending doom. Somehow, the more enthusiastic Giles appeared, the more apprehensive she’d become.
“As you know, we have been working on your stre
ngth for some time,” Giles continued, smiling broadly. “Perhaps some of you have become impatient with all the tree-climbing we’ve been doing! Well, fret no more because today we are going to start on the practical aspect of unarmed combat!”
“I think I’d prefer tree-climbing,” Ari muttered under her breath. But she and Lance were the only unenthusiastic students. Georgiana’s face was shining, Marcella listened with rapt attention, and the rest looked like they couldn’t wait to put the tree-climbing behind them.
“I shall start by introducing everyone to the basic moves of Rivieran combat,” Giles continued on, oblivious to the few unenthusiastic faces. “Although each country has different moves, it wouldn’t hurt to start learning the standard Rivieran routine. Bear in mind that none of this is set in stone; you can always improve and improvise, depending on your opponent. Now, form a circle and stretch out your arms so you won’t hit anyone next to you. Aaaaaand, let’s begin!”
In the middle of the circle, Giles started a series of punching, grabbing, throwing, and kicking. He asked for volunteers to partner with him—Georgiana had a scuffle with a couple of other students to be the volunteer. He showed them how to apply pressure to your opponent’s chin, how to sink down and grab your opponent’s knee, how to take hold of your opponent’s arm and throw him over your head.
As usual, Ari followed the moves half-heartedly, wondering when the instructions would be over, if the new type of skin cream would really protect her complexion better, and what ornaments she should purchase to wear for Valeria’s wedding, etc.
“So there you go—the first five basic moves of Rivieran combat!” Giles said, finishing with a punch of his fist in the air. “Has every one memorized the techniques? Yes? Good! In order to allow you to work most efficiently, we’ll continue by dividing every one into pairs and commence mock duels!”
Ari covered her mouth to hide her astonishment. Of all the things they had to do, this took the prize.
“You’ll get your partner by random selection,” Giles continued, rattling an ugly-looking yellow-green box. “We will switch partners for every class. It’ll be advantageous for you to practice with different partners every time, since everyone will inevitably have different styles! Your opponent will not always be the person standing next to you! Who knows... you might face an opponent that isn’t even human one day!”
Georgiana’s hand shot up. “Does this mean that the Academy might bring in non-human opponents in the future?”
“Well... we’re working on that,” Giles said, his smile fading a bit. “There are concerns, you know. While it may be of great benefit to us, the king and the courtiers wouldn’t feel safe if there were trolls and ogres kept on the palace grounds. But fret not! Even if you haven’t a troll opponent it doesn’t mean you can’t fight! Look at Lady Matilda; she trained at the Academy and went on to defeat dragons and dark lords all the same!”
Great Aunt Matilda should be the exception, rather than the model, but Ari agreed with Giles. After personally witnessing that ugly ogre in the journey to Riviera, there was no way she would like to see one again, much less as an opponent.
Giles placed the box on a large rock, stuck his hand in the hole on the box, and extracted two pieces of paper.
“Georgiana and Arnold.”
“It’s George!” Georgiana raised her voice, but Giles just nodded and went on. Georgiana straightened her back and looked over at Arnold, a boy from the Wesley family, who glared right back. Arnold had been trying to prove to the class that although the Wesleys were more known for their academic capacities, he was also worthy of being a warrior. Ari could almost picture lightning sparks sizzle as their gazes clashed.
Giles continued to call out names. Marcella was paired up with Wilbur, another hulking boy from the Quelan clan. As much as Ari admired Marcella’s fighting abilities, the Tintagel princess would probably have a difficult time. Wilbur looked like a smaller version of Howard.
Then—”Arianna and Boris.”
Ari couldn’t believe her ears. Just her luck—paired off with the bane of her existence.
Both Georgiana and Marcella instantly looked over at Ari with sympathy, and even Lance shook his head.
Ari grit her teeth. She knew she was no match for Boris. He was easily a head taller, a good deal heavier, and possibly had years of combat experience already. To make things worse, there was a predatory glint in his eyes. He must be relishing the chance to take vengeance on the girl who made him look like a fool in archery.
“Now, I want you to remember this is a MOCK duel, so don’t get all bloodthirsty and excited!” Giles said loudly. “What you need to do is to complete the moves, but don’t use up your entire body’s strength. Save the energy for a real enemy, all right? Start!”
Boris’s fist shot out so fast that Ari barely had time to avoid it. His knuckles grazed her cheek, and without thinking, she shrieked.
“Aaaaaah!”
“Pathetic,” someone whispered. “I can’t believe she’s related to Lady Matilda.”
“Don’t be scared, Arianna!” Giles called. “Just apply what we have been practicing—remember this is not a real battle! The calmer you are, the better the chance of winning!”
Ari barely heard anything; she was focusing on Boris’s fists, afraid that her face would be hit. Well, and other parts of her body, but it’d be harder to conceal a bruise on the face.
Boris flicked a leaf off his shoulder and smirked.
“Why don’t you slither back to Linderall?” he whispered contemptuously. “You only got in because of Lady Matilda.”
Ari wanted to answer that she did want to get out of the Academy, but somehow she couldn’t say it.
In the next round, Boris came at her with a flying kick to the shins.
Ari dodged, her heart pounding.
She was so focused on not getting knocked over that she missed the fist coming at her face.
Bam.
Pain shot through her left eye, and she staggered backwards.
Georgiana gasped. “Ari!”
“There, there, that’s enough!” Giles was shouting. “I told you that you should control your strength!”
But the damage was done. Ari whipped out her pocket mirror and almost fainted.
Her left eye was swollen and puffy. She had never looked more hideous.
Six: Time to Train Seriously
“Give up,” Marcella said, shaking her head. “No matter how much face powder you use, the bruise won’t go away.”
“Ari, you’ve been at the mirror for a whole hour already!” Georgiana said, coming over. “If you don’t hurry up and get ready, we’ll be late for the afternoon class!”
Ari stared at her reflection. Despite copious amounts of face powder and skin cream, as evidenced by several empty jars scattered on the table, one could still easily see dark circles around her left eye. It was black-and-blue, courtesy of Boris Quelan.
Frustrated, she slammed her palm on the mirror, causing a white hand print to appear on the surface.
Her looks were ruined!
Slowly but deliberately, Ari wiped off the face powder from her face. If the face powder didn’t succeed in covering her bruise, she might as well let it show. The entire first-year class had already seen her bruised face anyway.
Henrietta entered with a bowl of ice and clean cloths.
“Milady, I brought some more ice from the kitchen.”
“Leave it,” Ari said, standing up. “I am going to class.”
Ari stalked out of the room, her head held high, though narrowing missing the door frame. If she couldn’t leave the Academy, she was not going to let herself be hit a second time. That bruise was going to be the last one she would receive.
“Goodness,” Georgiana whispered to Marcella. “Did you see Ari’s eyes when she left? I almost thought Lady Matilda was channeling her spirit, it was so scary.”
“She has changed,” Marcella said simply.
Ari started to train with f
ervor. She could not afford to gain another blackened eye or swollen lip. In the past, she usually tried to get by the classes with minimum effort, such as walking instead of running or sitting instead of standing. Now, she couldn’t carry on like before, hoping that Darwar would realize she was a hopeless case and that it was no use keeping her in the Academy. If she didn’t want more injuries, then she had better buckle up and put her best effort into defending herself.
Ulaf squinted in suspicion when Ari actually placed herself near the front rows when he drilled them on staff moves. She picked up her staff and did not grimace—when in the past lessons, she would whine and complain that the weapon was too heavy.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he growled. “Don’t you always stay in the back?”
“I’ve decided I need to see better,” Ari said, raising her chin defiantly.
Ulaf drew his thick black eyebrows together.
“No tricks, I’m warning you,” he said.
Ari rolled her eyes. As if she could do anything damaging. Right now, all she wanted was to learn enough so that she could prevent herself getting hurt.
Strangely, making progress was not as difficult as she expected. Once she truly devoted her mind and body to training, gritting her teeth and going through the moves without cursing the instructor, the fighting arts did not appear as strenuous as they seemed.
“All you need is practice!” Georgiana said emphatically. “How can you not master this kick if you have gone through it a hundred times?”
It was just like her detention with Celestine. Once she forced herself to endure the endless drilling, Ari found that she was improving immensely, so much that even she herself was surprised. Perhaps she had inherited some talent from her great aunt after all.
In the morning runs, for example, she could actually run the entire ten laps, even though she was still lagging behind most people. In archery class, she had advanced from line number five to number six, signaling that she was now a competent shooter. The day that she might accidentally lodge an arrow in a fellow classmate’s body was gone. As for unarmed combat, she managed to memorize almost every move that Giles was teaching and implement it in the mock duels. She learned how to dodge a blow and strike back, how to calculate the opponent’s next move, and how to adapt to different fighting styles. With daily practice with Georgiana and Marcella, Ari was no longer worried about keeping her face intact.