Book 1 Chapter 5: A Connection

Since the meal was clearely over, Vero had the few servants finish cleaning up as he dashed after Ylva. This wouldn’t do. He clearly remembered that he was to train her to be a proper Ulrikan, even if she could kill him without a moments thought.

“Mi lady? You do have some studies to attend to,” he prodded. She paused in her stride and sighed.

“I’m busy,” she replied. Vero wanted to speak out to her, to tell her that she really wasn’t that busy now, but he rationalized that she meant she wanted to train as a warrior.

“I see,” he said. She looked back briefly before continuing down the hallway to a clearing. He stood off to the side and watched as she began a myriad of moves and intricate steps, barring weapons that seemed to appear out of no where. A light drizzle began and dampened everything.

Vero became so caught up in her ‘performance’ that he watched entrapped and in awe. The rain made her features more refined, smoothed and in a strange way, elegant.

Vero briefly wondered if this was what the master had seen and had fallen for. He did have his own taste, so it would make sense.

The mistress paused and quietly sheathed her weapons into their hiding places. She looked up at the rain and closed her eyes as if in silent prayer. Vero waited patiently as a thought began to form in his head. She came back from wherever in her mind she had gone to and headed to the baths. Vero jumped and quickly rushed out in front of her.

“If you will wait a moment, I will have a bath ready for you,” he said quickly before running off. He heard her start to say something but he had already dashed around a corner. Quickly, he drew the water and then while she was inside, he entered her room.

Inside, he looked about in surprise. Normally a guest room would be filled with lush cushions and niceties, but in here it was simple. Wooden simple cabinetry most likely hid what he was after, but the bed, was the most obvious thing. It was not one of the fancy ones, just a a simple frame and headboard, no ornate carvings anywhere on it’s surface. The curtains were a plain and simple color.

He figured it was to his master’s orders, but it still surprised him. He was more used to the ladies who had come before to try to woo the master, and this was a far cry from the normal. It somewhat made him feel like his mistress was someone who was… normal, for lack of a better word. He considered trying to talk with her, but shook the idea away. For now, he had a job to do, and the first thing was find her a pair of clean clothes to change into.

He opened the first cabinet and quickly closed it. The brief image of the contents was not was he had suspected. Inside were weapons of all shapes and sizes. Some he had never seen before. So maybe she wasn’t normal, and he had a gut feeling that he needed to avoid this cabinet in the future. He doubted that a warrior like his mistress would like anyone to touch these things. He quickly went to a dresser and opened the top drawer. Again he slid it quickly closed. More weapons. He opened the next then the next drawer, only to find more weapons. Where were her clothes? He began to despair till her came to the bottom drawer and opened it to find two sets of clothes, neatly folded and stacked. He sighed in relief and grabbed the more plain set and quickly left the strange room.

He padded across the clearing and took in the smell of fresh rain and earth, enjoying the coolness under his feet. Since today was not as formal, he could go without the shoes, and his feet cried out in joy. With a bit more spring to his step, he quickly cleared the area to the door of the baths. He paused and knocked twice on the door.

“Mi lady?” he called out. Inside her heard water swish and chewed on his bottom lip. “I’ve brought you a clean set of clothes. Where would you like me to leave them?” he asked. There was a long pause of silence and he wondered if she had heard him.

“Hand them here,” she said as the door creaked ajar, but not very far. He saw her hand reach out and he placed the clothes in her grip. His mistress quickly closed the door and he felt his ears droop. It just wasn’t the same as when he served his master. He only hoped he could learn to enjoy his service to her and hopefully understand her.

He wandered over to a large rock and sat on top, tucking his tail under him so his clothes wouldn’t get wet from the recent rain. He looked up then at the few trees, then at the ground where the mistress had trained. Her footprints were clear still and he began to follow them with his eyes as best he could. Curious, he hopped down and quietly began to set his own feet into the pattern she had woven.

He found it quite difficult to figure out at first, but with time, he began to figure it out, or at least he hoped he did.

“Hmm,” he heard and froze, looking over his shoulder at his mistress. She seemed as if she had been there for a while, observing. He bit his lip and quickly stood at attention before executing a hasty bow.

“I’m sorry,” he said and he heard her cough.

“For what?” she said at length.

“I…” He thought for a moment and tried to decide what it was. It seemed like the right response, but now he wasn’t sure why. “I… should have been paying attention, and serving you instead of… well… this,” he said gesturing to the ground.

“There’s nothing wrong with curiosity,” she said slowly. He flinched. Just how did she guess that was the cause. Was this the same mistress? She walked to his side and passed him as she headed to the hallway where the dinning hall lay. Well, at least she seemed to quickly memorize the place. It would help.

Vero padded after her and tried to figure out what seemed off. Was it her attitude? It was a bit softer, but even her back still felt intimidating as he walked behind her. He considered her words. She certainly was talking more today than normal, perhaps it had to do with seeing the Ulrika this morning. He supposed it was a likely cause.

“Mi lady,” he began and she looked back at him, but unlike normal, she kept walking. “If I may be so bold, why are you here?” her eyes widened and he hastily began to explain, afraid he had upset her.

“You don’t seem to enjoy being here, yet what I was told was that you consented to marry the master. I mean, it just doesn’t seem normal,” he said. He saw her eyes glaze over with a cold attitude and he swallowed, taking an inward step back, keeping his nervousness in check.

“Hmm,” she hummed and he hoped he hadn’t shut her up again. He wanted to smack himself for not taking his earlier notions to heart and letting her be, but he was also curious. He watched her walk off, but her step made him believe that she was pondering what he said. He kept a respectful distance as he trailed behind her. A thought wriggled into his mind.

With only a short time left till the wedding, he wondered if he could teach her the proper etiquette if she was this quiet and cold… and stubborn. After all, he was basically on his own, and other than keeping fit in her warrior skills, she seemed to be uninterested in what she was going to become in a few weeks.

He sighed before closing the gap between them. “Milady? Your studies can not wait. Unless you would rather find yourself on a path that would ruin yourself and our country.” Her ears flicked back as she listened. She slowly looked back at him but her eyes were clouded with a neutral expression on her features. Eventually she sighed and faced him.

“Fine,” she muttered and it took Vero a second to register.

“U uh, right this way,” he stammered, heading back the way they came and towards the room he had planned to used for her classes. According to the master, it was unused and before she had arrived, he had cleaned it and dusted the place. It probably wasn’t as immaculate anymore, but it would be better than he had found it.

He pushed open the door, ushering her inside. He still found it unnerved him about her silent, padding walk, but he admitted he was growing accustomed to it now. Inside was a dress, that he knew hadn’t been there before, resting on the table with two chairs, and a shelves of books on etiquette. He supposed the master had these brought in for resources. He noted her slight scrunch of the face as her eyes glanced around. In one corner there was water, cups, plates, and eating utensils. In another corner were more books but they looked like they were for other purposes.

Vero sighed as he glanced at her face. Her gaze had settled on the dress and she had decidedly put on a scowl.

“You’ll have to wear a few of those since it’s going to be part of your life, Mistress,” Vero said, taking on the role of instructor. Mentally he told himself it was like all the other times he had to teach a new servant how to do things in the castle. It wasn’t the first time, and it would not be the last.

He walked over and picked up the dress in a delicate fashion. He looked back at her, mustering his will to keep his facade of confidence from wavering. Never before had he taught such a strong willed and dangerous Yowlumne, but for his master he would do anything he was bid, and these were his orders. He also noted that she was a warrior and confidence would be his best weapon in bending and shaping her will to the decorum she would have to put up with. If nothing else, he would have to fake the confidence.

“You may be the mistress out there,” he said as he motioned to the doors, “but in here you are a student and I am to be your instructor.” He saw her grit her teeth and inwardly sighed in relief.

“First, you are to get dressed in this,” he said, holding out the dress. She slowly took it and held it as if it was completely detestable. He flicked his ears to a stall that was set up in the last corner and she eyed it before looking at him. Her eyes seemed to challenge him and he kept up his guarded expression of confidence, hoping it had a tone that said he would not take no nonsense.

When she looked away and walked over to the stall he held his breath until she was inside and let his shoulders drop and his head look upward.

“Dear lord, what have I gotten myself into,” he muttered very softly. He dearly hoped she wouldn’t challenge him at every instance, or he wasn’t sure how he would handle nor teach her.

He stood there for a while then decided he might as well figure out what he would teach her first. Unlike with learning how to do chores and manage a household, teaching etiquette would be very different. He walked over to one of the shelves and wondered where to start. He read titles such as The Proper Way to Speak and Etiquette Fundamentals before glancing at a different section. From streets to castles: the path to gain proper manners stood out a bit and he picked it up, glancing at the contents. There were tips on what to do with street manners but nothing about a warrior. He put it back and wondered where to begin. He supposed figuring out what she knew already would be his first course of action, but there honestly was a lot to go over.

After pulling a few more books down from the shelves he quietly wondered what was taking her so long. His tail twitched till he couldn’t contain his curiosity. He walked as soundlessly as he could to the stall and knocked on the door. From inside he heard a sigh and then it cracked open.

The first thing he saw was her scowl of annoyance, then her dress thrown in a corner while her weapons lay neat and organized on a shelf. Her leather tunic, bracers, facets, leg armor and other protective gear, had been stashed and she now was in simple cream and brown garments with a black belt at her hip. She stood there with a mixed expression on her face.

“Would you like some assistance?” he asked, holding back his slightly amused grin. Her ear twitched with her tail and she folded her arms a bit defiantly. He rolled his eyes and walked by, grabbing the dress.

“Mi lady, I would prefer if we can keep you virtue and decency intact, so, this first time we shall slip it over your current clothes, but the next time, you will have to do this yourself, including the under garments,” he said as he began to find the bottom to slip it over her head. He reached up and pulled it over her face. When it was slid over her, he had her turn around, now that her pride had fallen a bit and did the tie in the back. He straightened the other parts and glanced up and down as she stood there, annoyed and shamed.

“Well, it will have to do,” he said dismissively.

He then proceeded to drill her on walking, posture, and other appearance based performances of being a royal. He was a bit surprised by her posture, though it had a bit of work. The part that was the worst, was walking. If she wanted a commanding presence, she would also have to glide through the room in a way that would demand the attention of others.

He then had her present her table manners, having her focus on drinking while he got food for her to try. She was not bad, but compared to court life, this was far subpar.

Not too long into, she became exasperated and for once she let her guard down and he could see that she was fairly furious. He tried hard not to show fear and keep his position of authority.

They practiced long until he saw that there was no point in continuing for the night. He bid her a good night and then with the last bit of command he could muster.

“You may wake at your usual time to stay fit as a warrior, but you are to meet me here just after ten in the morning with your dress adorned and ready for further instruction. Though you may be the mistress, you do not hold that position till you can pass the protocols of etiquette, and you are wed to the master.”

“I could kill you,” she muttered and he let his ear flatten back, though he showed anger rather than fear.

“If you did, you would see how quickly this country would suffer by your influence and you would find that there would be no place to escape nor fight. You would not be able to win,” he said. He watched her eyes slightly widen, more in amazement at his attitude change, no doubt, than his words. “Dismissed,” he said and turned from her as he left her near the door. He began to clean up from the day and when he glanced back she was gone.

He paused and then walked over to a chair and melted into the seat. He hoped he could hold up the facade long enough to teach her, but he worried if he would die first.