One, two, three, block, five, six. Start over. One, two, three, block, five, six. A drop of sweat rolled down his back as he attacked, parried, and dodged an invisible opponent. He had done this so many times that he could do it with his eyes closed, although not with his hands tied behind his back. Hands were kind of necessary for swordplay.
He had, as far as he knew, been born with a sword in his hand. Although some might have called him a natural when he was younger or brushed it off as beginners luck, there was no doubt that now he had earned his way up to the top of the totem pole as far as swordplay went. As far as his opinion on the matter, he loved swordplay. It was something to do to pass the time between the tedious parties and dinners that were held almost every other day. When he was practicing he could just let go of all of the tiresome events of the recent days and concentrate on the only two things in the world, him and the blade.
After the sun had moved two-thirds of its way across the sky, he finally laid the sword down on a nearby wooden table. It made a clattering sound as its jeweled handle hit the wood. He pulled on the light grey tunic that he had taken off to practice. It stuck to his sweating chest as honey sticks to fingers. He picked up his blade again, and with one final glance at it, sheathed it in its matching sheath. He left the empty practice field to go to his chambers.
One, two, three, switch, five six. Start over. One, two, three, switch, five, six. Embroidery had become a favorite pastime of the young ladies of the palace recently. Of course, they could always get the servants to do this sort of thing for them, but something needed to be done to pass the time between the balls, dinners, and parties that were held on a regular basis. The activity also gave an excuse for the ladies to gather in a good sized group with none of the men around and talk about the latest goings on in the palace.
All except for one were huddled around in the circle gossiping about the Court's newest arrival, Sir Cedric. Most of the ladies in the room weren't interested in creating a beautiful work of art but simply getting time to talk with each other without the men. She had realized this the moment she came to this palace about five months ago. Seeing this, she had never talked with any of the other ladies in the court, but found that she loved not only embroidery, but also sewing, stitching, and knitting. In these activities, she found a sense of peace that she found no where else; she could block out everything that had happened that day, and it was just her and her creations. She wasn't bad at all of this either, and she didn't need to sell her craft for any money, for her future was already secure.
The afternoon sunlight shined on her newly created kittens that were playing with a bright red ball of yarn. She gathered her things, put them in her dark purple bag, and left the room with the rest of the ladies staring at her. She needed to go to her chambers to prepare for the ball that night.
"She is so beautiful," said one, "and I don't understand why she's so unhappy here. I think if anyone of us was in her situation, we wouldn't be able to keep our head attached!"
All of the ladies fervently agreed and continued their gossiping.
He rounded a corner trying not to think about tonight. It was one of those social dances where anyone who had meant anything to his father in the past was invited, and there was a lot of preparation to be done. If anyone of any importance had found him practicing, he would have surely been shooed away to be re-measured for some garment or asked his opinion with the decorations. He could honestly care less about what Lady This or Sir That had to say about anything.
She rounded a different corner and was trying not to think about tonight. She had to get back to her chambers to try on the new dress that was custom made. Fine clothing did not impress her. She thought that it made anyone who wore it look like a selfish snob, but according to tradition, she had to wear it because of her station, although no one had ever asked her if she wanted to be thrown into the situation in which she was currently.
They both rounded the same corner at the same time and ran right into each other.
After the spluttered, "I'm so sorry," and, "It's quite alright," they both stood rather awkwardly in the archway.
"So I guess it's another night of pretending to like each other," the girl said after a few moments.
"I guess you're right," he said, "I had better get going."
"I should too."
The girl walked away thinking about Prince Arthur. She could hardly believe that she would have to marry that selfish and arrogant boy in only five short years.
The boy walked away thinking about the Lady Gwenyvere. He could hardly believe that he would have to marry that vain and narcissistic girl in only five short years.