When Ethel had woken up to the slight creak of her old wooden bed, she decided it was best to wake up rather than force herself to go back to sleep. Being a light sleeper, it allowed her to wake up in even the slightest disturbance, which was a huge disadvantage in and of itself. She sometimes found herself wide awake during the majority of the night.

But for her, it had been a daily routine she had faced since she was young. Training had been more important than having a good night’s rest. Fleur had annoyed her on numerous occasions to sleep, but she disliked medication as it developed a sense of dependency, and neither did she want to go to sleep with those horrid scented candles.

It was like the scent was assaulting her nose. It was horrible.

As she dressed herself for a run, Ethel had the persisting thought that there was a possibility Vyron may have ditched her. It wasn’t the first time that something like this has happened. As not a lot of people wanted to keep up with her consistent morning exercises in addition to afternoon trainings, her routine had been spent alone and at the crack of dawn swinging weapons, throwing daggers, and nocking arrows.

Her initial plan had been to wait a little while before dawn, eventually resuming her exercise, as she like to call it before running off to class when the sky turns the usual boring grey.

To her surprise, Vyron had showed up donned in well-dressed clothes, making Ethel look quite shabby next to him, his silver hair tied in a low ponytail. There was a hint of expectancy in his eyes that she didn’t miss, and that made her smile.

“I’m glad to see that your stubbornness has not failed you. I was beginning to think that you won’t show up,” Ethel confessed as she held out a broadsword for him.

Vyron tilted his head. “Why wouldn’t I show up?” Then he took the weapon from her, curiosity laced in his voice.

“You nobles don’t mingle with us commoners. It’s been a common divide in the institute. Surely you know that fact?”

Honestly, he had forgotten. Having long gotten used to being with Carys had his sense of superiority completely diminished under his sword skills. But of course, Vyron got the sense that his ignorance might trigger an unwanted reaction and so he nodded.

“Anyways, we’re going to be training with broadswords today. Lighter than what you’re used to, but heavy enough that the transition won’t affect you too much.”

Ethel wanted to spar with a different person, one who held a weapon that is unfamiliar to her. She hadn’t sparred with Vyron before and this friendly spar might spur her to improve. Maybe. Provided that he could keep up with her.

“Are we already going to spar?”

Ethel, who had already climbed up the platform, turned around and nodded. “Yes, I’m already up here, aren’t I?”

“But...”

Vyron held the broadsword in his right hand. The hilt was perfect for his hand and it was heavy enough to avoid large swings when he used his strengths. For a second he thought, ‘my uniform is going to get messy again,’ and eventually climbed up the platform to join her.

“Well then, shall we?”

Ethel held up the broadsword with some difficulty, it was obvious that the sudden shift of weight was not something she had gotten used to. Vyron then wondered why on earth she would choose to wield the same weapon as he did.

As if guessing his thoughts, Ethel then proceeded to speak, “It’s for a fair match. I’m as unfamiliar at the broadsword as you are. But knowing the very basics and having a stable foundation is vital. Every weapon has the same essence. It’s just up to you to be able to harness that. Which brings us to the first lesson.”

Already in a fighting stance, Ethel had charged forward, her demeanor changing entirely. Her aura turned fierce as she carried the sword a little beat slower than she was used to. Of course, Vyron did not hesitate to raise his sword to block, the force behind the blow neutralizing. In return, he retaliated by attacking her right side, a blind spot that had been left wide open from the previous blow as Ethel got knocked back.

It was certainly true that a man’s strength cannot be compared to a woman’s, but whoever said that men were stronger than women has not always reigned true. Just like now.

With her fleixble body, Ethel dodged the blow and used the interval of his swing to throw another swing at him. Stunned in place, Vyron was a beat too slow when Ethel suddenly swing a kick aimed towards his head, using the sword as support. Vyron blocked her kick with his right hand and tried to widen the space between them. Caught off guard, Ethel quickly grabbed and twisted his wrist that held the sword. Now swordless, she quickly kicked his legs and held him in an armlock on the ground, rendering him unable to move.

Everything happened so fast that Vyron hadn't processed what had happened.

“Wait – What – I –?”

Ethel responded by twisting his arm, which was so painful it felt like his shoulder was about to pop off its socket. “I – surrender!”

She let go and got up on her feet, dusting away the dirt on her clothes.

“A good warm-up,” Ethel panted as she picked up the sword she had let go of during the match.

Vyron stood up, rolling his shoulders to try and ease the pain. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That!”

Vyron had seen Ethel move agilely like an assassin and twist her body in weird angles that it didn’t look like the swordsmanship he had come to know of. He was also disinclined to believe that he had been bested by a woman. A madwomen, to be precise.

He had a certain pride and dignity that he would like to keep, thank you.

“Care to have another go?”

“We have to do that again?” he asked dubiously.

“Of course, we’re training together starting today. The earlier you get a feel for your opponent, the better.”

“Lord, have mercy on me,” Vyron murmured as he collapsed on the bench. He downed the flask of water he had in hand, trying to keep a steady mind.

“Which reminds me of the lesson I said earlier.” Ethel stroked her chin as she continued, “The trick to being good with a sword is a good foundation and mastering the basic skills. You have mastered that already so we move on to the essence.”

“What essence?”

“All weapons have one purpose. To protect. Doesn’t matter who. Yourself, a family member, perhaps your master, or anyone. It’s designed to protect.” Ethel had a serious look on her face as she trailed the blade of the sword with a finger.

Then she looked at him. “Of course, that doesn’t mean that everyone thinks the same. Look at the annals of history, plenty of weapons are used as a means of destruction. And surely you don’t believe in that men are better than women?”

Vyron had half a mind to argue, however the lingering sensation of his shoulder threatening to dislocate made him shut his mouth. He would be insane.

“What, not answering?”

Vyron shook his head.

“If you say so.” Ethel shrugged and sat down on the ground. “In any case, our training will consist on modifying your muscles.”

“Why? Aren’t I already fit?” Vyron asked incredulously. Not only was he denied the use of his zweihander, now she was asking him to change his muscles? She must have gone crazy, Surely she has.

“Stop looking at me like I am insane. I’m perfectly sane, mind you.”

“Then –”

“One thing I noticed during the match is those abdominal muscles yours.”

Vyron spat out his drink.

“My – What – My abs? What does that have to do with training?”

Ethel wanted to roll her eyes. She was inclined to think that the money his parents spent on his tuition have been wasted.

“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you the anatomy of the body?”

“No!” Vyron grunted. “I found it unimportant to learn. Besides, there are much better things to do. Like, train and spar.”

Ethel clicked her tongue. “Tsk tsk tsk! That’s where you’re mistaken, rich boy.”

“I am not a rich boy!”

She ignored this and continued, “As if it wasn’t obvious enough, building muscles are different for every person. What works for one doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll work for you. That’s why we develop our own training regime and build up from there. There are certain muscles we pay attention to depending on your specialty."

Vyron tilted his head. Having been taught the same training as the other knights of their household, it hadn’t occurred to him that each person is fundamentally different.

“Do you get it? I’m hoping you do because the last time I tried to train others it was a disaster. Remember Albright and Porte?”

They're already plenty strong themselves and their training failed?

A shiver ran along his spine remembering that huge brute and gremlin.