The Briarwood Girl (1)
I was born into a legacy of steel and honor, but my heart always yearned for something different. The Briarwood name carried weight throughout the kingdom, known for producing fierce female warriors who could outmatch any knight in combat. From the moment I could walk, I was thrust into training – swords, spears, and shields became my unwilling companions.
My mother, Lady Briarwood, was a formidable presence. Her piercing green eyes seemed to judge my every move, always finding me lacking. "Arielle," she'd bark, her voice as sharp as the blade she wielded, "put your back into it! A Briarwood doesn't flinch at the clash of steel!"
But no matter how hard I tried, the weapons felt awkward in my hands. While my sisters reveled in the thrill of combat, their laughter ringing out as they sparred in the courtyard, I found myself drawn to quieter pursuits. Numbers fascinated me, the way they could reveal patterns and solve puzzles that brute force could never touch.