Episode 46
Helen couldn't take her eyes off the polished silver sword. What had chiefly been a means to protect people now felt as though it would slice her hand simply from drawing near. No—if it touched her, it would definitely cut. Though she had cut paper with it several times, this would hurt incomparably more. Would it merely hurt? She would writhe to hide the pain, but in the end, she wouldn't last even a second before screaming. As she thought such things and looked at the sword again, her feet kept shuffling backward.
At that sight, Riandoreu picked up the sword and swung it around once, showing off his form.
"You needn't be afraid, my lady. The sword you will be using is not such a ruthless fellow."
"Then why did you show me that one?"
She had thought that since he was going to teach her the sword, he would hand her the longsword the knights used. She had even harbored secret anticipation.
It had been only a year, but while living as the noble Violet, she had seen countless knights. To protect the Imperial Princess, they had always kept their swords as if they were their own bodies, and every time, they had protected her with those swords. She knew that it was their profession, their pride, and something like their very lives. Carlisle would have felt the same.
And just as she was about to unwittingly recall memories of him again, Edwin cut her off.
"I thought showing you the movements with a real sword rather than a wooden one would be much clearer."
"So this is the sword I'm going to use?"
Edwin picked up the wooden sword placed on the bench and lightly swung it by rotating his wrist. Perhaps because the wooden sword truly was light, he looked as if he were waving a feather this way and that.
Soon, Helen received the wooden sword from Edwin. Excluding the hilt, it was a small dagger only about a handspan long. Even if it had been a real sword of such small size, it would have had a substantial weight, but thanks to being made of wood, she could swing it around without straining her wrist.
Besides, could she even properly lift a real sword with this body that knew nothing of exercise save breathing and walking? Helen brushed the bluntly cut blade with her palm. Unless she deliberately struck down with it, it wouldn't inflict a single wound on an opponent.
"Try gripping the hilt lightly with your right hand."
"Like this?"
She gripped the dagger's hilt with her right hand as Edwin had said. But she wasn't sure if this could be called gripping lightly. To her, quite a bit of strength had already gone into her right hand. When she gripped it truly lightly as he had said, the sword felt as though it would slip from her clenched hand.
As Helen tilted her head and gripped the hilt over and over, Edwin stepped in. He stood right beside her and helped her. Truly, a real knight's touch was different. She simply left the sword in Edwin's hand, yet she viscerally understood what it meant to grip it lightly.
"What's next?"
Naturally, once one held a sword, one learned how to cut, but with a handspan-long sword, one could at best cut fruit into easy-to-eat pieces. Unfortunately, the blade was too blunt to even slice fruit. But Edwin must have had a good method. Having gained a little confidence, Helen's eyes sparkled brightly.
"If you touch the enemy's nape with the dagger, you can sever his breath in one stroke. But that is far too dangerous for you, my lady, and not something you will ever face, so I shall teach you how to defend yourself."
"Can I really defend myself with this?"
"It was some time ago, but I cut the lifelines of rats that had infiltrated the Imperial Palace with a dagger."
"Ah... rats."
Both when they had met at Violet's memorial and now, Edwin seemed to like rats. Or perhaps he despised them.
"Sir Vance, would you teach me too? I mean, how to cut a rat's lifeline."
For now, she had barely managed to viscerally learn how to grip the sword lightly with someone else's help. So she knew that mastering how to attack an enemy was a distant prospect. But she had once read in a book about special people that a famous pianist had played the piano even after losing all memory in an accident. So she thought that perhaps this winter, or at the latest by next spring, even if she lost her memory, and even if she were threatened with her life someday, she might be able to recall the feel of this sword.
By then, she would truly no longer be even a half-noble. With no way of knowing whether Riandoreu would choose to stay by her side, this was the only way she could protect herself.
"Hmm, it will take a long time. So in your current state, my lady..."
His effort to circumspectly say that she was the ultimate beginner trying to learn a superior's skills was plain to see.
"You're saying it'll be hard to learn quickly? I know that."
"But as I said before, you will never find yourself in such a dangerous situation, my lady."
"A thief could break into the house, couldn't they? I could encounter a pickpocket while buying groceries. And what if an assassin appeared while I was sleeping?"
"If a thief enters the mansion, the servants will drive them out themselves, and you will never go grocery shopping personally. Above all, what rat would enter my lady's bedroom?"
Edwin roughly plunged his longsword—as tall as his upper body—into the ground. His broad shoulders rose and fell ruggedly, as if he were breathing roughly. If he misspoke one more time, he looked ready to turn the estate upside down with a murderous air.
"You're right. I spoke needlessly. No one would enter my bedroom unless they were mad."
If such a person existed, the odds were very high that they were a poor wretch unaware that in the Heksilropeu estate lived a self-proclaimed great magician whom even the Imperial Court magicians could not match, and the youngest-ever Knight Commander.
"Still, if you're going to stay in Heksilropeu for a long time, please consider it in a positive light."
"My lady."
"You never know. I might have incredible talent."
When Helen smiled, her eyes curving gently, Edwin nodded reluctantly. He pulled out the sword that had been thrust deep into the ground so that the rough wind wouldn't uproot it.
Today she had learned how to grip the dagger lightly; he had planned to teach her the motion of straightening her arm. To do that, her arm needed to be firmly built up with strength, but at a glance, Helen's arm was slender. So he postponed the motion of straightening her arm and changed his plan to teaching her how to build strength.
While Helen fully enjoyed her rest as Edwin left his seat following a knight who had brought a letter, she thought: Edwin was an incredibly strict teacher. He was strict even in front of the person he loved; how much more so within the knighthood? She imagined that quite a lot of tears had poured from the eyes of the squires while learning from him.
"Ah, I can't put any strength into my arms."
She had performed the motion of bending and straightening her arms while holding bottles filled with water in each hand at least a hundred times. If she had been wearing her usual dress, the seams at the arms would have torn.
She felt as though she would do nothing but sleep for the next day or two, let alone eat. Though it wasn't even noon yet, her eyelids were already heavy. Sweat-dampened hair clung to her cheek, and the cold sensation drove sleep away, but only for a moment.
At this rate, could she really learn how to cut a rat's lifeline? She was afraid she would declare her surrender before that. Helen peeled the hair stuck to her cheek away and shook her head.
"Give up? When would an opportunity like this come again?"
The only knights in Heksilropeu were the Imperial Knights belonging to the training grounds established here. They showed no goodwill toward the half-noble lady who had been involved in a scandal with the Emperor. Would such knights readily accept a request to teach her the sword?
Of course, she could find someone who knew how to handle a sword. However, she couldn't be sure their skill was as high as Riandoreu's. Most importantly, she had no time. She could learn the sword at best until early next spring. And that was also premised on Riandoreu obtaining the demon beast's blood by late winter.
"It's not something to wait for until spring."
It would end this winter. So once again, it was winter. It was as if winter were a corpse from which Helen Platini's life had been drained. All along, winter had always brought her despair.
At age seven, in winter, she had been abandoned by the man called her father. She had endlessly waited for the carriage to come for her until that winter ended, but around the time spring arrived, she had come to realize. That it had been a dream.
At age twenty-two, in winter, she had become the most beloved Imperial Princess in the world. She had truly received more than she deserved. Moreover, she had loved and been loved. And so she had wished it wasn't a dream.
At age twenty-three, in winter, Violet died, and she returned to being a half-noble lady. Those she loved still loved her. In the end, everything had been a dream she could never have.
At age twenty-four, in winter, she met the one she loved. Though she had wished to be happy, she couldn't approach that person who remained stuck in that time because he couldn't forget her. It hurt so much that she rather wished it were a dream.
This winter too would likely not be very different from the last. Even so, because it was the last.