The next morning, breakfast was brought to her and she ate with relish, thanking the old servant over and over again. The servants were, again, as silent as stone statues and ignored her every statement and question. Genevie was aware that she garnered surprised looks from the house-staff and made every effort to appear approachable. If worse came to worse, perhaps she could beg for a post here in the kitchen or as cleaning staff? Genevieve wouldn't mind working in such grand a place as this.

"Please, if you won't answer any of my questions, come and join me," she offered, pulling up a chair next to her and offering a slice of buttered toast. The old woman narrowed her peevish eyes at Genevieve. It was only in retrospect that Genevieve perceived this offering as offensive to wait staff. "My apologies," she back tracked, "I'm not used to being waited upon like this. Or eating alone as such. Meal times are for friends and family and I have lost mine." Still, nothing but contempt from this old hag. Sickened by her own thought of losing friends and family, Genevieve's appetite faded and she abandoned the rest of her meal.

Idly, Genevieve perused the books and found nothing that drew her attention. Her anxious thoughts were full of seeing Fiero again and what their meeting would be like. She wished for something to do with her hands, patchwork, dressmaking, even some curtains to mend would've been nice. Perhaps she'll ask Baritone for a sewing machine and some material with which to direct her hands over.

The window offered a slight reprieve as she sat in the seat and gazed out on the vast lawns and yards of the castle grounds. Past the immediate garden, far to the right of a maze, in the yards adjacent to the stables on that side, were three different groups of men, all diligently training in combat. One group had swords, another rode their horses and the last had no weapons at all and were wrestling. The point of these exercises was lost on Genevieve as she watched them execute and repeat various moves.

Each group had a leader, who instructed from his stance, sometimes demonstrated a move or corrected form. What kind of operation called for such training regimes? An idea came to Genevieve and she rummaged in the desk drawer for parchment, quill and ink. She noted down the day and time and described the three groups in the pages, listing any observances she made.

This kept her busy until there was a knock on the door. She had forgotten that she was to go for a walk, as her captor wanted. There was nothing else for it then, she called 'Come!' and a guard let himself in.

He was young, of average height and a shy face that barely looked at Genevieve. He wore the uniform, complete with sword by his side. "I am Giovanni," an average name to suit an average person, thought Genevieve, "... here to attend you on your daily exercise." After making a short introduction and enquiring as to what the weather was like outside, Genevieve pulled her jacket around her shoulders, finding comfort in the uncommon weight of it, and followed the young man out.

The walk to the door that would take them outside was closer than she expected, down a few hallways and stairs close to her room. The doorway led to a small courtyard, surrounded by olive trees. A wendy pathway carried them away from the monstrous shadow of the castle and into the shining rays of light. She gauged her window to be somewhere above the olive tree courtyard and the maze to be south over the next garden section over. The castle was much bigger than Genevieve's first impressions. The sheer scale of the place was mindboggling. The setting was breathtaking. This place was heaven.

Genevieve dawdled around the olive yard and into the next garden featuring a rose garden, forcing the guard to slow his pace impatiently.

"Have you also been told not to speak with me?" she asked Giovanni sadly.

"My instructions are clear," he replied shortly, neither confirming nor denying it. On the pretence of inspecting the beauty and scent of a few flowers, she turned her back to her guard and looked around the establishment. She was looking for reference points and mentally trying to map her way around. This garden was south-west of the olive garden and extended further back. The walls seemed sheer but trees grew close to it, offering shady hidey holes at the back of the garden.

As they continued on, Genevieve did not attempt to engage this guard in conversation. He seemed uptight but bored. Instead, she busied herself with appearing to wander around and noting her surroundings. Was this where they made the men like Fiero, who skulked around in hooded attire, melting into the shadows and killing rapists with ease?

The day was cool and breezy. It was all too soon before the guard told her "We must go back now," and Genevieve reluctantly followed him. She followed him as slowly as she dared and was not verbally reprimanded for taking her time, however, the guard shot her impatient looks of 'hurry up!' every now and again.

No one visited Genevieve except for the servants and the guard on her daily walk.

It was a week before Genevieve felt she had a good understanding of the grounds. Giovanni was back to escort her on her daily wanderings. He was his usual sentinel self and barely paid her any attention. She attempted to make light conversation and was met with a proverbial brick wall.

Today would be different though.

She ventured out through the olive garden and into the rose garden again. This time, she went further out from the castle towards the back of the garden this time. Picking a spot as far away from the castle as possible she turned and announced, "Oh! Dear! I must relieve myself!" Giovanni's eyes widened in alarm. Caught like a hare in a trap, he did not know what to do. Genevieve crossed her legs where she stood and scrunched her face as much as she could. "It won't do! I'll never make it back in time."

Giovanni looked left to right and left again along the path they had come, but weather it was in desperate search of help or embarrassedly hoping no one saw, Genevieve couldn't tell. He stammered, "W-what?"

"I'm just going to go behind these hedges here. Don't look!" she screeched as she picked up her skirt and ducked into the foliage. "Turn around! And sing something so you can't hear me!"

"What!?"

"Giovanni! Please! Turn around!" she yelled desperately from behind the bushes, rustling them a little for emphasis, "Sing something for both our sakes!"

And to her amazement, he did. He had a fine alto voice and he sang a bright gig from his childhood.

Giggling to herself, she found the tree she had located on a previous walk and, with some difficulty, hoisted herself up and over the wall next to it. She landed on grass, thankfully, and found herself in another section of the garden. She made off quickly, jogging directly out from the wall, through the maze that was on the other side. She had seen this maze from her window, though she had not been able to figure its key out. Still, being lost in a maze meant that she would be harder to find once Giovanni worked out what had happened.

After some time, she felt sure that Giovanni would either be following or raising the alarm. Genevieve managed to find her way through to the other side of the maze and looked around the bright day with a satisfied smile.

She had no intention of leaving such a beautiful place. Her objective was up ahead, over the fence and to the training fields. From the edge of the field, she could see the same three groups of men in their respective groups, all diligently practicing moves or riding. She approached quickly and was surprised when no one appeared to see her. In fact, the men didn't see her until she was a few meters away from one of the leaders. Then they stopped and stared, which prompted the leader to turn around.

Her captor, Baritone's, face was priceless as he gawked at her, speechless.

"Good morning," she announced, reserving her cheery and triumphant tone as much as possible – it would not do to gloat about escaping her guard, "Sir, may I join you?" She didn't wait for an answer as she strolled over to some equipment that had been tossed aside. There was an amused murmur amongst the men. They shifted their weight on their feet as they watched her and waited for another instruction from Baritone.

Nonplussed and ignoring her question, her captor enquired coolly, "Genevieve, where is Giovanni?" In turn, she ignored his question and from the small shields and short swords, she selected one of each and tested the weight in her hands. They were heavier than she expected but not altogether unbearable.

"Put those down!" hissed a man from the ranks. She tilted her head, considering if he felt threatened by the fact that she was a woman invading their manly space or if he felt threated by an armed woman. Perhaps it was a mixture of both. She attempted one of the ready poses that she had observed them doing from her window and swung the sword slowly in a couple of defensive moves. Her core muscles groaned with the effort of holding up the leaden steel. She could not do this for long. Already, she was sweating.

"Take them," she called loudly, feeling unusually brave and knowing she'd have to be quick.

"Sir?" asked the man who had hissed. He was a burly man with a face pinched with hatred and lined with prideful youth. He stood a full head and shoulders taller than Genevieve, which she probably would not have noticed if he didn't appear to want to kill her.

The men expectantly watched their leader, awaiting a next order.

He was definitely not pleased about the prospect for a woman fighting but Genevieve stood ready. She would not be deterred.

"You," Baritone pointed to a smaller man, closer to Genevieve's height but who still had more mass than herself. He was an impressionable young man who appeared surprised to be selected.

"Sir, she's a woman..." he protested.

"... and she has issued a challenge. Take her weapons fairly, without drawing blood," her captor commanded impatiently. The young man gave his friends a surprised glance then approached Genevieve. Holding her shield steady, she eyed his face, watching for any early predictors of his actions. He was not joyous at being chosen for this task and he clearly decided that he shouldn't try as hard because she was a woman. They circled, and he tried a slow, exaggerated axe-chop, directly down to her, which she promptly blocked. It glanced off her shield with a clang! She countered, lunging as far forward as quickly she could, and managed to win with her sword pointed squarely at his chest. The youth was not impressed and his friends all laughed at him as he joined their ranks. He protested, saying she's a woman, it would've been ungentlemanly of him if he won.

The victory was short lived as she dropped her arms with a single "Ugh!"

"Had enough?" asked Baritone expectantly.

"I need just a minute," she replied and while she puffed a bit, he selected her next assailant. This one was bigger than the last, but not as big as the man who really wanted to fight her. She collected herself and her arms up into a stance again and nodded her readiness.

This man came at her without hesitation, chopping and swiping constantly, pushing Genevieve backwards and allowing no time for her to react. The repeated clangs on her shield reverberated inside her head and the world seemed as though it was vibrating. He was focused, watchful and out skilled her in every way. She tried side stepping but he followed doggedly until she tripped back and involuntarily let go of her sword. It fell with a thud next to her as she hit the ground. He loomed above her, blocking the sun and drew his sword back to make a last strike. Hastily, she pulled the shield up to cover her face and braced it with two hands for the impact. She turned her ear to the ground and could hear her own heartbeat thud against the cool earth. She squeezed her eyes shut.

The contact never came and it wasn't until she heard the laughter that she peered from behind the shield. Her assailant grinned down at her, sword and shield down. She sighed in relief and picked up her own as she got up.

"Best of three?" asked her captor as she replaced her weaponry. She gave a good natured but exhausted laugh.

"Perhaps another day," she replied, an idea came to her and she approached him boldly, "Will you train me like you do these men?"

After a short consideration, in which she only had time to blink, he told her "No," but not without a hint of amusement, "Leonardo will escort you back to the castle." He turned away from her in dismissal, but she rounded on him.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"You're a prisoner."

She laughed.

"Am I?"

He frowned at her, obviously not used to being questioned so openly. His eyes didn't stop calculating as they narrowed.

"Would the answer be the same if I wasn't a woman?"

"Leonardo..." he was ignoring her again as Leonardo stepped forward, "Take Genevieve back to her room. She has missed midday meal. And if you find Giovanni, tell him to come and see me." The young man nodded and took Genevieve by the arm as she was about to protest but he dragged her away roughly until she assailed him with some vicious slaps. To which he threw her from him.

"You'll not drag me around like a sack of potatoes!"

"Leonardo, try it with some respect. She is at least once victorious and a guest here," her captor called to their backs. Genevieve glared at Leonardo. He said nothing, only motioned for her to get moving. With one last glance at Baritone's back, she turned and marched back up to the castle.

No midday meal was brought to her but it was worth it. She sat at the window, watching and wondering.