For a moment—just a moment too long—I remain silent in his arms.
And then it hit me...the weight of eyes around, everyone was looking.
Heat rushed up my neck as I pulled away from Atticus abruptly, I steeped unsteadily as I created distance between us. My cheeks already flushed with reddened shyness.
"I—no...that wasn't…." my voice came out uneven, tripping over itself. "I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted—wanted to have fresh air. I mean I wanted to watch you…it's been a bit long. You must be cold out here—"
I stopped.
Because even to myself, I sounded ridiculous. Fragmented excuses that I meant, but probably sounded ridiculous from the perception of other side.
And him—he just looked at me. Neither angry nor interested.....just like watching some paid fool. That look alone made everything I said feel meaningless.
My fingers tightened.
Then, almost instinctively, I reached out and grabbed his arm. "I want to train," I repeated, gripping him tighter. "I don't want to stay like this. I don't want to keep weak." My eyes spoke for my sincerity in words better, but for something it sounded inconvincible. I still continued, "I don't want to be a burden—"
"You're not," he cut. His eyes showed a bit of expression, was he pitting me? I couldn't say otherwise.
Then, suddenly—
The ground disappeared.
A gasp escaped me before I could stop I was suddenly lifted, my body flipping before I realized what had happened—
And then I was over his shoulder--like I weighted nothing. Like I was nothing.
"W-wait!"
My face burned as he started walking as if this was completely normal, as if carrying me like a sack of grains didn't mean anything at all.
"Put me down!"
I twisted, pushing myself up slightly, forcing my head upward so I could see him.
"I'm serious!" I insisted, breath uneven. "I won't cause trouble, I swear. But I really want to train. Everything you've heard about me—it's not true. I'm not—"
"I haven't heard anything."
I blinked.
"...Then that's good," a wide smile stretched on my lips quickly. "Then just grant one wish of mine. I really don't want to be useful—"
"Blades are not built for women." The words were calm. Sounded simple and final. But I didn't let it go.
"Before being a woman," I said, my voice quitter but steadier, "I am your concubine."
"And I am your husband. Am I not enough to protect you?" he didn't look at me.
For a second, I got reminded of the time back. He was the same man I knew. The same one who always kneeled to be by my side no matter the situation—even when I murdered that stalker in hinge of second and was sent to court, even when I almost gave away my life to the sea, even when my sister accused me of poisoning her fiancé.
"I am someone who stands by your side," I put my hands on both sides of his ears and angled upwards, I wanted to have a look into his eyes, wanted to know what was he thinking about.
He didn't flinch back, just stopped—as if the time had stopped. Just like that. And then—
"Do as you wish. Just don't repeat that."
I was lowered back to the ground. The moment my feet touched, I grabbed him again, not letting the chance slip away.
"Then give me trainer," I said in a firm tone. "How am I supposed to learn on my own? I don't know anything."
This time, he actually looked at me. Not dismissing, not mocking as I supposed he would. Just…..watching.
"Macios."
The name carried through the training ground. I followed his gaze as a man approached—large, broad shoulder, with a presence that felt heavy even from a distance.
I recognized him in a second.
The commander of the northern troops—Macios.
He stopped in front of us, his eyes flickering towards me for a brief second before returning to Atticus.
"Train her," Atticus commanded, tone sharp now—nothing like he talked to me.
A pause, then almost carelessly—"Make sure she continues to breath."
That was it.
No expectation, no warning—nothing lingered. Just….don't let her die. And he left.
The moment he was gone, the air shifted, the restrain slipping just enough to show what he really thought.
"What kind of fate is this….." Macios muttered looking into a different direction, as if I am some curse.
"We haven't even started," my tone showed irritation I wasn't able to hide. "Isn't it too early to decide that?"
He let out a short breath. "We don't need to start," he replied, looking directly at me as some lowered person. "Everyone already knows." Sharp and unpleasant he sounded. "Even if everyone pretends to be fine with you, they all are well aware about your deeds. No one fine with you..."
My fingers tightened slightly. For a second I wanted to argue. Wanted to say something back. To deny it. But the words didn't come, because somewhere I already knew. "....leave," I said quietly biting m own tongue inside.
What could I even say. Things attached to this name which is not mine. But I was still carrying them.
.....
Training started the very day.
At first, it felt manageable. Simple exercises that were enough to strain this body but not break it. then—
"Run…."
That was all I heard every time my steps haltered. Earlier few rounds left me breathless, it felt burning all over but the cold weather stood still making a avoidance on any sweat sign.
"Don't stop...RUN!" he screamed every time the ground beneath me blurred and my lungs felt tearing apart.
As the days passed I started losing count of how far I went. Ten kilometers daily, maybe more.
"Are you well?" that's all Atticus asked every time on the dinning table. It was insufficient but enough. It was those words which bound me every time to the training ground.
...
Two weeks passed. My body adjusted, little by little.
But my skills? Still lacking from where it should be. Holding sword still felt unfamiliar.
Blocking, basic stances, sharp cuts at points—that was all I was taught. I practiced till sunset with a few break in between, still I was nowhere.
Some mornings I get to see Atticus face as he practiced unspoken, but most of the time that wooden puppet was my companion. Being entitled for my before deeds, no other soldier dared to come near me...…it felt lonely at time...but it's fine.
I had grown several bruises as Macios battled me left handed sometimes with a cigar in his mouth—already showing I am near to nothing. His brown bearded square face gave me nightmares sometimes.
But it was fun somewhere. Even in disgust, he trained me. And I kept going.
......…
That night, during dinner—
"Tomorrow is the hunting ceremony."
I looked up. "Hunting…?"
"You will attend." There was no question in his tone. That's a command.
"...You too?" I asked, the question slipped out before I thought anything.
"….Yes, have to."
That's all he said. Always quitting without explanation.
I stared at him for quiet a time, waiting—maybe more, maybe he would elaborate. But, nothing came.
"...I understand." I murmured though I wasn't sure I did.
Across from me, he had already returned to his meal, as if the conversation had ended the moment he finished speaking.
...….
The moment I stepped back into my chamber, the silence wrapped around me again—but this time, it wasn't the same as before.
It wasn't empty. It was ....restless.
"Hunting ceremony." The word echoed in my mind, unfamiliar, heavy with something I couldn't quiet grasp. Atticus hadn't bothered to explain it. Why would he even.
My gaze shifted to her.
Lisika was there, as always. Quiet, attentive, almost like a shadow that never left. Atticus chose her personally.....how lucky of me.
For a moment, I just looked at her.
She had been the only one who stayed. The only one who didn't avoid me outright. Even if it was just her duty—still, it made a difference. Out of loneliness I am used to share everything in my mind with her, she was more than just a maid to me.
"Lisika."
She immediately straightened, stepping closer. "Yes. Milady?"
Without hesitation I spoke, "What is the hunting ceremony?"
For a brief moment, she simply blinked at me—once, twice. Being stared at like this but such a beauty should be crime. Lisika had albinism, with soft features she completely sat on the opposite side of boat with me.
"Milady, you don't know?" she said, her voice lifting with sudden excitement as she took another step forward. There was something almost bright about her now, a sharp contrast to the dull quietness of the room. "It's the grandest event in the North."
I frowned slightly. "What's grand in that….?"
"Did My Lord asked for you to come with him?"
"Yes, he did..."
She giggled a little.
That certain talking tone felt personal but sent more curiosity in me.