The trip back to the barracks was quiet at first. We walked along the allée that connected the mansion to the training grounds in silence, quietly following Marianne as she marched to her own beat. Edward and I walked on either side of the road at an awkward distance apart, like cats who were patently ignoring the other’s existence in hopes it might make them go away. Truth be told, a part of me feared he was going to attack me at any moment; we were finally without adult supervision, and the only witness was the uncaring noble, Marianne. But to my anxious surprise he kept to himself, staring off into the distance with a disturbingly thoughtful expression on his face. It didn’t suit him at all- I much preferred to see him sputtering in anger. It was easier to tell what he was thinking that way.

“You know,” said Marianne, breaking the awkward silence. “I cannot help but wonder, why did they choose us for the honour of being Lady Violette’s bodyguards?”

“Because we performed best at the Squireship Trials,” answered Edward with a patronizing sigh. “At least, most of us did.”

“I understand that,” said Marianne as she turned back to look at him. “I’m simply wondering why they choose untrained squires for the job.”

Edward had no answer for that, his forehead wrinkling in thought.

“Perhaps because they wanted people closer to her in age?” I offered.

Marianne gave me her usual glare, though it softened slightly as she considered my words. “Perhaps, Carrot-top. But what if it compromises her safety?”

I quirked my eyebrow at her, surprised. “You’re surprisingly astute, Miss Beet. I’m glad to see you haven’t been swept up in fantasies of grandeur about your own capabilities.”

“Look who’s talking,” she snapped back, her skin already turning a flushed pink. “At least I have a realistic perspective on the world, instead of going around and picking fights with people when I don’t get my way.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically, taking the chance to check on Edward as I did so. He showed no reaction to Marianne’s words other than a smile that played across his lips. I licked my own, nervous - not that I would ever admit my fear, of course. Any sign of weakness, any slight break in my boisterous bravado and Edward would be on me in a moment. It felt like I was a rabbit walking next to a wolf, trying to make myself look as big as possible to discourage the predator. But the truth was that I was helpless. If Edward decided to get his revenge, here and now, there was little I could do to stop him. My wounds from our last battle were still raw and painful - in the worst case, I could even end up permanently disabled.

It was a feeling I absolutely despised.

“Ah, come on now; I still beat him fair and square. Even Edward doesn’t mind that much, do you, Ed?” I joked, trying to keep up the facade.

“No,” he answered with that same creepy smile. “Not really.”

“Eh?”

Marianne and I stopped, both staring at him in shock.

“Wh- what do you mean?!” sputtered the Beet. “She slandered you in front of the whole tournament!”

Edward stared at me, his eyes burning despite his smile. Unlike Marianne’s glares of indignation, this one was full of a hidden malice that sent chills down my spine.

“I don’t mind,” he said slowly, stepping towards me. My nails bit into the palms of my hands. “Because it doesn’t matter. Isn’t that right, Carrot-top?”

I didn’t mind when Marianne had called me that before, but coming from his lips it felt like a vile insult.

“Right…” I answered softly, unsure of what he meant. “It doesn’t…”

He paused, staring deep into my eyes. He was so close, I could feel his breath on my lips - hot, and unpleasant. A moment of tension held between us as he examined me, searching for something - I wasn’t sure what; I only hoped he didn’t find it Then-

“Because we all passed, right?” His smile widened as he stepped back, breaking the moment entirely.

“Right,” I answered, a relieved smile breaking across my face. “We all pass-”

Suddenly his fist was right in front of my face, a gust of wind from his punch blowing into my eyes. I blinked, frozen in shock at the fist that had stopped barely a centimetre from my nose - I hadn’t even seen his arm move.

“And I have nothing I need to prove either,” Edward said with a grin. He leaned forward slightly, ever so gently tapping my nose with his knuckle. “I know I was already weakened from the previous fights that night. I know I had nothing to lose to you in the first place. But most importantly of all, I know-”

He stepped closer, his hot breath warming my neck as he brought his lips next to my ear.

“-that beating up a lonely commoner girl is a complete and utter waste of my time. Do you, Miss Richter?”

His voice was as gentle as a lover’s, yet the words were anything but. Lonely? A chill ran down my back as I realized he wasn’t wrong - I had no friends, no allies in this entire camp. But before I could respond, he was gone - practically sauntering as he walked down the allée. All I could do was stand there, the echo of his words reverberating through my mind as my body trembled. I bit my lip - hating myself for feeling this way.

--

We made it back to the barracks in time for lunch, held in the large mess hall we had started the morning in. This time though it was a cacophony of noise when we arrived - the foot soldiers had returned from their morning combat drills, and seemed to enjoy the opportunity to hassle the new recruits with hoots, hollers and taunts. I even heard a few cat calls as Beet Barbie and I stepped in, causing the Beet to freeze up, her face pale with fear. I grabbed her hand and immediately dragged her to the line for food, ignoring the shouts as best I could.

I couldn’t really blame her; even I, who was expecting an unwelcome reception, felt a chill running down my back. Aside from the two of us, there were only five other women in the whole hall; the one other female squire, and the four maids working the counter. Women were still banned from joining the footsoldiers in the Rhinestadt Duchy; Knighthood was the one military exception that allowed women to join their ranks, as aristocratic women preferred female bodyguards.

As a result we had an entire mess hall of violently inclined, vulgar men looking at the squires like we were fresh meat ready to be devoured. Though I was sure they would never follow through on their threats - we were future knights after all - they seemed unafraid of hurling as much abuse at us as they pleased.

It didn’t take long for us to reach the front of the line, where we were offered bowls full of a gruelly porridge and some hard tack. I watched as Beet Barbie’s sneer began to form on her face as she was handed the unappetizing bowl of sludge, but before she could mount her protest, I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away.

“What are you doing, commoner!? You can’t seriously expect to-”

“Do you seriously want to kick up a fuss now?” I hissed back. “With all these men watching, waiting for any excuse to rip you to shreds?”

Fortunately that gave her enough of a pause for me to drag her over to the corner of the mess hall, where the only other female squire sat. She stood out - not only for her gender, but for her caramel dark skin and midnight hair - a unique sight in a sea of white skin. A small boy with grey hair and an aggressive amount of freckles sat next to her, sharing a dejected expression with her. I dropped our bowls on the table, sat down, and began gobbling the sludge as fast as I could.

“You can’t seriously expect me to eat this, do you?!” snapped Beet Barbie, finally finding her chance to complain.

“If you don’t, you’ll starve,” I answered harshly. “This isn’t your fancy home anymore. All you get to eat here is what they put in your bowl. No seconds, no desserts, no fancy sides - just what they give you.”

“Wh-” Beet Barbie sat down in a huff, a picture of absolute disgust on her face. “Why?”

I almost choked on my food at this, trying desperately to suppress a laugh. “Why?! Because it’s cheap! Welcome to the life of a soldier, milady!”

She did not seem to appreciate my welcome.

“How do you know so much about soldiers?” asked the mousey-grey haired boy.

“I watched my father at the barracks.”

“Your father is a foot soldier here?” asked Marianne with surprising interest. I shook my head.

“City guard. They have a similar basic training regime, only without, y’know, the war stuff. It’s how I learned to use the standard issue rifle.” I shook my head as I caught myself blabbing. My stupid mouth had gotten my family into enough trouble already. “But enough about that. You all should eat as quickly as possible; it’ll only taste worse once it's cold.”

The other two squires reluctantly began picking at their food, choking down the horrible sludge as best they could. Marianne, however, was still stubbornly holding out.

“No… no, this must be a mistake. Surely they must have something else for squires like me- perhaps in the knight’s dining hall-”

“You’re welcome to try and ask,” I said with a smirk. “But don’t blame me if it doesn’t go well.”

She returned my comment with one of her classic glares and stood up again.

“Well, you might be satisfied with this slop but I, at least, have standards,” she said, enunciating her words with pointless barbs.

I shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With a final glare, Beet Barbie grabbed the bowl of slop and flounced away, her ponytail bouncing along fiercely behind her. The small boy tried to follow, but I held him back with a hand.

“Just wait, let’s see what happens first.”

Like a trio of vultures, the squires and I watched closely as Beet Barbie flounced her way up to the serving maid, bowl in hand. She spoke animatedly, gesticulating wildly with her arms as she made her complaints known. The maid, meanwhile, just stared at her, eyes wide as she vaguely nodded- more out of acknowledgement than agreement.

After a minute of the Barbie’s tirade, the maid held out her hand for the bowl of slop. Marianne handed it over, pleased with her apparent victory- only to watch as the maid dumped the contents of the bowl back into the pot, and return the now empty bowl. A roar of laughter burst out from the surrounding footsoldiers, accompanied by jeers and shouts; evidently they had been watching closely. To her credit, Marianne did an excellent job of ignoring them as she walked back to our table with a haughty pout on her lips.

I sighed, turning back to my food. “Told you so.”

The boy sighed as well. “For a moment there, I was sure she had succeeded.”

“Not likely,” said the brown skinned girl. “Despite all the fancy speeches about us being the future knights of the realm, we’re still squires. Expendable.”

I paused eating, taking a closer look at her as she spoke. Her hair was long and hung low in front of her eyes - almost like she was hiding behind it. It didn’t take too long for me to figure out why; a white patch of skin that I recognized as vitiligo blemished the right side of her face, running across her cheek from her lip to the tip of her ear. It was enough to give me pause to reconsider the assumptions I had made about her. “What’s your name?”

“...Hastings. Tressa Hastings,” she answered, her voice low and reluctant. I furrowed my brow; the name didn’t ring any bells, nor did I recognize her from The Monster’s Daughter. I doubt I’d have forgotten a face like hers; the entire cast had been blindingly white.

“Tressa… nice to meet you Tressa. I’m Freya,” I said with a smile, holding out my hand. She eyed it suspiciously.

“Yeah… I know. You kind of made a name for yourself.”

“Ah,” I laughed awkwardly. “All good, I hope? Ow!”

I yelped as a hand came down on my head. I turned to see Beet Barbie, her face still angry and flushed from her adventure to the serving table.

“Of course not, commoner! Have some self awareness!”

I rubbed my head where she had hit me. “So, did you get your three course meal, milady?”

She sniffed. “I wasn’t hungry. Besides, I’d rather starve than eat something like that.”

I rolled my eyes dramatically and returned to my food, unwilling to argue further. If she starved, it was her own fault.

A period of awkward silence followed as Tressa and I focused on our bowls. Marianne sat down and made a point of staring around the room, at everything that didn’t involve me. The young boy, however, fidgeted restlessly.

“I- I’m Fayette d’Esclade!” he volunteered, after no one asked.

“Hmm… Marianne d’Antoinette, at your service,” answered Marianne as she glanced at him.

I squinted at him. The boy looked no older than eight. “Fayette? Isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“N-no!” He flushed, flustered under my gaze. “Not at all! I’m a boy, a real boy!”

I snorted- “Sure, just don’t let your nose grow too long.”

Marianne frowned at me, confused by the reference. I could tell she was curious, but not enough to have to engage with me again; instead she turned back to him.

“I’m afraid I’m not too familiar with the d’Esclade family. Are you the eldest in your family?”

Fayette shook his head, still nervous. “Y-youngest. I have two older brothers… and a sister!”

“I see. Well, it must’ve been a great honour for you to have been chosen as a squire!” said Marianne confidently. “Your father must be very proud of you.”

The boy wriggled his eyebrows, puzzled. “Really? Was yours?”

“Oh- Of course!” answered Marianne. “I am the first woman of House d’Antoinette to have been accepted as a squire for Lord Rhinestadt! It is truly a great honour!”

“Wow!” said the boy. “My father said that becoming a squire was a waste of time.”

“Ah- really?” asked Marianne, startled. “I find it hard to believe Baron d’Esclade would hold such an opinion.”

“Is it really that hard to believe?” interrupted Tressa, in between bites. “After all, only two or three out of every class actually become knights. Your chances of actually surviving the training are slim.”

I stopped eating, staring at her in surprise. I hadn’t heard of that before. “Really?” I asked, unable to keep the shock out of my voice.

She gave me an unpleasant smirk in response. “Yup. Why? Thought it would be easy sailing now that you’ve passed the first round?”

“No, I just-” I frowned. “I thought every noble wanted their kid to be a squire.”

“Ha!” she barked out a laugh. “Don’t believe everything Miss d’Antoinette tells you. Listen, you may have joined our noble circles, but don’t think you’re any better off than you were before.” She spat the word like it was an insult. “In fact, you’re probably worse off. The squireship may have once been dignified, but now it’s naught but a place for families to throw away inconvenient children- the extras.”

“That’s not true!” Marianne suddenly shouted with shocking crudeness. I looked over and was surprised to see tears at the corner of her eyes. “That is not true at all! To be here is an honour- to serve Lord Rhinestadt is an honour!”

Tressa simply shrugged. “Fine. If that’s how you see it, I won’t argue.”

Another awkward silence settled over the table as Tressa returned to her food and Marianne turned away, looking to regain her composure. I was surprised that she didn’t pursue the argument further, but perhaps she afforded more respect to a fellow noble than to me. Regardless, after a moment she turned around again, her face betraying no sign of agitation whatsoever.

“Hastings, correct? I wasn’t aware Count Hastings had a daughter your age.”

This conversation was not going well- almost immediately I could tell Marianne had made a poor choice of topic. Tressa’s hand clenched around her spoon, and she stared into her food like it was going to kill her.

“That is correct. I’m… a distant relative.”

“A distant relative?” I cringed as Beet Barbie blathered on, utterly failing to read the mood. Tressa’s family was clearly a sensitive topic. “Really? Why did you join the squireship then, if you disapprove of it?”

To her credit, the girl did a good job of keeping her cool. “I never said I disapproved of it. I merely said it was a place for families to throw away inconvenient children.”

“And so you joined because-”

“Because I wanted to,” said Tressa as she bent over and took another bite of the unpleasant food, her eyes narrowing from behind her long bangs as she did so. “Isn’t that why you joined, Miss d’Antoinette?”

“Ah, yes of course,” said Marianne, her voice trailing away. I was relieved she seemed to finally be picking up on Tressa’s discomfort. I scooped up another spoonful of gruel, when-

“You must be from quite far away though, correct? Not many people like you around-” Beet Barbie cut off as a piece of gruel flicked into her face, splatting her neatly in the eye.

“How- How DARE you!!” she shrieked, hurriedly wiping her face. “This is why I can’t STAND commoners! Have you the manners of a pig, you disgusting carrot top?!”

“Oh, I am SO sorry, milady,” I answered dramatically. “The gruel was simply so repulsive it flew right off my spoon!”

“As if! I clearly saw you throwing- throwing that SLOP at me!” I ducked as her fists came down on my head, laughing until-

“Agh!” I screamed as a blaze of hot pain burned right through my wound. It felt like I was being stabbed again- my body convulsed, and I collapsed to the floor. Marianne stepped back, shocked by my response.

“I-I didn’t hit you that hard!” she stuttered, her face a deathly white.

“I-it’s fine,” I gasped through the pain, trying belatedly to pretend there was nothing wrong. “I’m f- ah! I’m fine.”

A few other soldiers glanced briefly in my direction before turning away; I even heard a few sniggers as I tried to recover. Fortunately the pain, though intense, was brief and I was able to pull myself up onto my chair again. Strange looks greeted me as I looked around the table - I returned them with a stupid grin, as if nothing had happened.

“Just a little prank of mine, haha. Nothing to worry about.”

Marianne let out a sigh of frustration- or was it relief? Tressa gave me an odd look, but returned to her food without question. Fayette, however, was staring at me with eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Go on, eat quickly,” I encouraged. “We won’t have much more time to finish up.”

“That was really good acting,” he said, breathless. “Almost like it was real.”

“Thanks,” I answered, flashing him a quick smile.

“I’ve never heard anyone scream like that.”

“Well, you better get used to it.”

“Huh? Why?”

“ATTEN-TION!! SQUIRES, ASSEMBLE IN THE PARADE GROUNDS IN THREE MINUTES!!” bellowed Cassandra’s voice from the far end of the hall, saving me from further explanation. I nodded to the wide eyed boy.

“See? Finish up quickly. Time to go!”