To Hold A Sword (Pt.2)

Lucian groans as he rises from his bed. Every muscle in his body strains with the movement causing him great pain.

Standing before the mirror, his ragged appearance makes him look like a refugee of war. Dirt paints his cheeks with a blackish color. Dried sweat has his hair curled in every direction. The soreness in his muscles makes his posture hunched.

'I tried so hard to make progress on my swordsmanship last night, and now I look like an absolute trainwreck. What the hell is he thinking giving me a week to perfect my movements. I barely made any progress last night. Does he think I'm some kind of genius?!'

The door to his quarters opens.

As Lucian turns to the door, Isla enters, shutting the door behind her.

"You look awful." Isla exclaims with a chuckle.

Lucian scowls at her distasteful joke.

"It's called hard work. With your dainty hands of yours, you probably don't know what it means." He replies with scorn.

Isla chuckles louder at his reply, causing Lucian to sigh.

"What the hell kind of apprenticeship is this? Does he think that I'm some sort of genius?" He rants.

Isla walks closer as his rant continues.

"He expects me to learn how to handle a sword in a week. This is nuts!"

Her height dwarfs Lucian as she looks down at him with concern.

"Harald doesn't expect you to become a Master Swordsman right away. He just wants to show you how much effort you'll need to get better."

Isla's voice soothes Lucian's frustration. Raising her hands to his cheeks she begins to wipe the dirt from his face.

"Harald is a kind man once you get to know him. What he's putting you through is what he thinks is best. Don't overthink it. Just try your best. I promise if you do that, you won't be disappointed."

Lucian tries to push her hands away, annoyed by the childish nature of her actions.

"I'm not a child. Don't treat me like I'm a baby who can't clean his own face."

Isla ignores him. Her focus lies on his hands.

She grabs his right hand and turns it over.

Lucian's hands are covered in blisters and cuts. He spent hours chipping away at the dummy to no avail, causing more injury to himself than his target.

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine, Isla."

Isla rises to her feet and walks towards the door.

"Stay here. I'll be back."

She exits the room.

A few minutes pass before she returns.

Walking back into the room, Isla now carries what looks to be a small toolbox.

"Sit on the bed. This should only take a second."

"I said I'm fine. This will heal in no time." Lucian replies, holding his hands up to her in a nonchalant manner.

Isla sighs at his prideful response.

"If they aren't treated, they could get infected. If that happens, you'll fail your first lesson. Doesn't sound like a good first impression."

Isla gives him a sly smile.

'There's no way he says "No" now.' She thinks.

Lucian gives her a guilty look, noticing her trap.

"Fine."

Now defeated, he does what she asks.

Isla kneels in front of the bed and opens the box. Inside the box is a myriad of first aid supplies. She takes a small tonic bottle and two rolls of gauze from it.

"Open your hands. This'll sting a little, but it should make everything heal faster."

She opens the tonic bottle and pours a few drops on each of his hands.

The liquid causes a burning sensation in his raw wounds.

Lucian bares with the pain.

'Feels like she just poured alcohol on my hands.'

'Wait. What's this?'

Looking down at his wounds, he notices that the liquid has turned to a jelly which now covers his injuries.

'It looks like Neosporin, but it's definitely doing a lot more than that. It feels like it's cooling my hands. What is this stuff?'

"What did you just pour on my hands?"

"This is called "God Nectar." Healers use it to treat soldiers during battles. It's not cheap, so don't expect any more of it." Isla explains as coins jingle in her eyes.

She finishes dressing his wounds, quickly wrapping the gauze tight around both of his hands.

'Damn, she's pretty good at this. She must have some experience doing this so fast.'

Lucian clenches his hands a few times, adjusting himself to the wraps.

"Thank you." He says in an apologetic tone.

Isla waves her hand.

"Don't worry about it. I can't have you focusing on your injuries during my lessons."

"Your lessons?" Lucian questions.

Isla stands tall. Placing her hand on her hips.

"Yep. From today onwards, I will be your teacher. You're gonna be my good little student. I'll teach you how to bow properly, speak properly, and which nobles hate each other." She says as a sadistic smile crosses her lips.

Lucian facepalms.

"This is not how I wanted to start my morning..." Lucian groans.

"Oh, pucker up. When I'm done with you, you'll walk, talk, and look like a real noble." Isla ecstatically replies.

"Hmm! Let's start with posture and then bowing!"

"You look like a street thug with that posture."

Isla tugs at Lucian's shoulders and straightens his back out. Finally, she places her finger under his chin to raise his head.

"Now that's more like it!"

'This is gonna be hell.'

Isla's lesson continues for the rest of the morning. Until she is cut short by Baldwin calling them for lunch.