There’s no point for this fight to go on any longer Alaric thought. Damocles had stopped calling out during the fight and Alaric could tell that the blade was desperate for respite. “Thank you for the mercy, my lady. It would be a shame after all. I yield.” Alaric bowed and Francine nodded, satisfied. The next fighter took his place, and instantly regretted it as she dispatched him with her characteristic ease. Alaric could not tear his eyes away from her movements, flawless as they were. While others left in defeat and others jested with the other swordsmen, Alaric could not muster a thought besides watching Francine...his power paled in comparison to hers...
After the fights ended, Alaric saw Francine, contented and alone. Seeing her fight, it filled him with determination to take his next step. As he walked closer to her, the reddish brown woman turned to him. He had not realized how much taller she was than him; it had to be at least a foot. But this was no time for hesitation.
Alaric bowed, his voice somewhat shaking "My lady. It was a pleasure watching you fight, though it pales in comparison to actually dueling you. While I thought had advanced much, it is clear I am nowhere close to where I need to be to confront my destiny"
He swallowed, fear forming a pit in his stomach "I have a favor to ask of you; would you take me on as your disciple? I realize this may be imposing, but I feel that this may be the only way I might become strong enough to survive this world. I swear to do all that you ask without complaint, so long as you agree to teach me the way of your swordsmanship"
She took a cup of water from a passing servant and turned to Alaric. Staring down at him, her piercing green eyes appeared to burn right through his soul itself. Her eyes slowly wandered across his body, leaving you to deal with an awkward and uncomfortable silence. Eventually, she declared: "You're kinda cute, aren't you?"
"I..I..I beg your pardon, my lady?" said Alaric, blushing
She leaned down and whispers into your ears: "I said, 'You're kinda cute, aren't you?'"
She shrugged as she pulled away. "Oh, lighten up. The matches are over now anyways, so I don't have to speak in that frustratingly... conservative...? Conservative way anymore," she says. "And besides, if you want to be my disciple or something, you would need to get used to people speaking like this. Nobody in my family speaks fancy in private. They are all kind of insane, if you ask me."
Alaric nodded and exhaled What on earth....this is her in private? There was a clear shift from her cool, noble manner to….now… Still though, she needed to be answered, and Alaric tried to crack a smile "Very well, My Lady. As for your question....I suppose? My father wasn't much to look at, but my mother was supposedly rather beautiful? Perhaps the fates smiled on me in that regard"
"Hmm," she said, a small frown crossing her lips. "From the way you speak--you are a noble, aren't you? Why are you even bothering with asking me for swordsmanship lessons?" she says, with a genuine look of confusion. "I never taught anyone aside from my little brothers before--could you not just ask your father for lessons from much more qualified swordmasters?"
Alaric looked down and grimaced "My father...yes he was a marcher lord. And he did teach me; rather well I had thought, until today. I fought by his side in the Great Holy War, and I have a trophy of my success" Alaric patted his sword, Damocles still too weak to even speak "Though I do not dare claim myself to be a master, I thought that I may be able to hold my own in this world. But today, fighting you...watching you...I realized that I am but a pup in this world, and I'll be swallowed soon enough." Alaric clenched his fist "Even fighting you today....in those few minutes, I think I have improved more than I ever had in my lifetime. Every fiber of my being tells me that the path I must walk is to study and serve under you, my lady"
She let out a giggle as she covered her mouth with one hand. "Oh, flattery will get you absolutely everywhere," she said. "Very well, if you insist, if you can complete one favor of mine, I will take you to be a disciple."
Alaric beamed, and eagerly nodded his head "Yes My Lady! I am yours to command!"
"Very good!" Francine said, grabbing his hand. "Follow me."
Alaric winced at the pressure of her grip--she clearly was not taking no for an answer. She started dragging him towards her mansion. Servants look at him suspiciously but clear out of the way as Francine shoos them aside
"You see... Alaric, was it...?" she says as she continues. "I have experienced a personal tragedy recently... something that I hope that you can help soothe."
He nodded "It was Alaric, yes my lady. And of course, I will do everything I can to help"
"Wonderful, wonderful," she said, absentmindedly as she half-dragged him up the stair. Alaric began to realize that the servants were no longer looking at him suspiciously; the emotion that has replaced suspicion is that of pity
"It's about my little brother," she said as she leads him into the upper landing--the doors in this hallway are clearly bedrooms.
Her brother….? This can’t be good..."Oh? And how can I be of assistance?"
"He left on an adventure recently," she said. "Some nonsense about not wanting to live under my shadow forever and wanting to make a name for himself or something. This is where you come in." she lets go of his hand and dug around her pockets for a key to her bedroom
Oh thank god Alaric thought, wiping off the sweat that been accumulating at his brow and cleared his throat "Oh? How is that my lady?"
"Oh calm down, will you? It's nothing really urgent," she said. She unlocked her bedroom door and walked in, and motioned for him to follow.
Alaric felt increasingly meek as she looked at him. He had little desire to go into the room for fear of what might be in store, but disobeying Francine could come with other consequences...besides, if he was to train at her side....he would need to endure whatever this might be. "Yes My Lady" he said, bowing his head
Through the half-ajar doorway, Alaric saw a mostly normal bedroom. There were some painting supplies by the window and an easel, and an empty canvas, likely belonging to Francine although Alaric really couldn’t imagine her painting
There's a stool a few meters away from the canvas--where you assume the 'model' sits. Francine motioned to it "Take a seat on that stool," she said, in a commanding voice "I have to get ready."
"Very well my lady"
She began to whistle as she opened her closet, revealing a whole collection of rather cute dresses and skirts, along with her 'normal' clothing of coats and suits
"You see, Alaric," she said, picking out some pink dresses with floral motifs and decorations with plenty of laces and laying them on the bed "In the Empire of Terma or Al Kalmaria or such nations, there are these things called "mail order catalogues,"
"Cutting a long story short, I've become terribly addicted to ordering my clothes from such nations. You might have noticed that I'm not entirely conforming to the fashion of Weissen as a result."
"But doing so has lead me to a terrible, terrible tragedy."
A chill ran down Alaric’s spine as he began to realize that none of the dresses that she picked out of the closet will fit her--she's too tall for those.
"None of these will fit me," she said with a tone of sadness in her voice. "So I... uhh... made my brother wear it."
Alaric dared not to move"I uhh...I see...my lady"
"And then I painted him." She pulled out a painting from her closet--featuring a charming young lady in a dress. "That's him. Do you understand what I'm talking about...?"
Alaric nodded slowly "You want me...to put on the dress....and be painted by you?"
"Yes, that sounds about right."
Alaric gulped. I know exactly why her little brother ran away, he thought, but he dared not say anything like that. He struggled for a moment, but nodded slowly. Learning from the greatest sword master in the world? "Well...I suppose I did ask to serve you....and this would be...serving you. Very well, my lady"
"Very, very good," she says while nodding excitedly. She hurries over and sits by the canvas and starts mixing the paint. "Well, go on” indicating at the dresses
Alaric looked at the dresses "Is there a particular one you wish to see me in, My Lady?"
"Oh I haven't done anything with any of them yet," she said, waving her hand. "Just pick whatever you wish."
"Yes, My Lady"
The dresses were definitely unlike anything Alaric had seen before in the Weissen borderlands. Hesitating for a moment, Alaric selected the blue flowing one with lace; it reminded him of the flames of Damocles. Thankfully of course, Damocles was completely incapacitated… Despite his initial discomfort, as Alaric placed the dress on, it seemed...oddly satisfying? Not that he had a burning desire, no, but rather a feeling that he would be significantly better off when Francine was pleased
Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun with it! And at least his hair was long enough to avoid a wig. He gave the dress a twirl and curtsied to Francine "My lady.” As Francine stared at him, Alaric was keenly aware of their height difference, and began blushing.
"Oof," Francine said, suddenly clutching at her chest.
Instantly fearful, Alaric rushed forward "My lady! Is something wrong?"
"No no no," she said, waving you off. She was panting heavily. "I think I just got too excited," her eyes were wide and practically shaking with glee. "Please sit on that stool."
Exhaling with relief, Alaric curtsied as he sat down "As you command, My Lady"
Francine couldn’t stop herself from grinning as she immediately begins her work. Alaric began to wonder briefly about how she could even work when she was shaking so, but she immediately started barking instructions at him to 'sit up straight' or 'move your head a little bit more to the right," and so on and so forth. For a moment, she was back to her cool, professional self that she was on the arena, except she was painting a man in a dress...
About what seems like an eternity later, she finally laid down her brush. "Well," she said. "I guess that's enough for today."
"May I see, my lady?"
"Not until it's finished," she says. "The paint's drying anyways." She picked herself off of her own chair and moves on to the bed to gather up the leftover clothing.
"May I take the dress off then, or shall I keep it on?"
"Hmm..." she said, actually considering the question. "Just do whatever you wish," she finally answered. "I can talk around about letting you stay somewhere within the mansion. I won't be able to actually start training you or whatever until that's done. I have to leave for a day or two tomorrow anyways. Some idiots just keep sending me weird letters."
"Thank you, My Lady. And letters?"
"Oh yes, weird letters. I've actually just skimmed what it says, but I always felt it strange that a person whom I've never met or heard of before would send me letters. Especially letters with poems. I'm going to be dealing with the issue." she waved off his concerns. "Permanently," he heard her mutter.
Still nervous, Alaric inquired further "Is this a matter in which I might be able to assist you My Lady?
"Nope," she said. Well I suppose that ends that
As she began to prepare to leave, Alaric felt a pang of...remorse? Regret? Whatever it was, it would hang as a dark cloud over him if he allowed Francine to take a risk she did not know...even if she could beat back anyone who might think to arrest her.
"My lady, I suppose there's one thing that you should know, before going further" Alaric moved back the hair covering his slightly pointed ears "A few things actually I suppose"
Alaric kneeled, his head bowed low "I am a Demon. And as mentioned before, a noble. I am the bastard scion of the von Salza family. My brother attempted to kill me when he found out my secret” Tears began forming in his eyes before he wiped them away, suppressing his emotions “But I ended up slaying him. I am sorry My Lady, but I feel I must tell you this before we go any further"
"My my," Francine says. She only showed minimal surprise. "You have guts, don't you? Ah well, it doesn't matter for me." She started packing her painting supplies into a box
"It....it doesn't?"
"Nope," she says. "Can't be bothered to care, honestly. My father's the one who cares about the whole nobility, etiquette, and prestige, and I don't think even he gives a damn about whether or not his next ally is a demon or whatever. Guess not caring about superficiality runs in the family."
Alaric smiled as he lifted himself from the ground "Thank you my lady...thank you. Is there anything else I can help you with tonight?"
"Nothing," she said. "Most of the rooms in the mansion are unoccupied at the moment, so just pick whatever you wish to stay in at the moment. I'll talk to father to allow you to stay. Just a warning that my family's training can be... harsh," she said. "There's still a chance to back out, you know."
Alaric smiled "Never. I am eager for it, paintings and all"
"Very good," she said. She dusted herself off and walks towards the door. "If you get lost in the mansion, just talk to a servant or keep turning right until you find somewhere you recognize. Ask the servants for meal times, etc etc etc..." she trailed off as she opened the door to her room. "I'll be leaving tomorrow and will be back in a few days, so training will only begin... whenever it is that I come back. Try to make yourself home in the meantime."
"Yes my lady....and...thank you". And so it begins
