Constantin had left the yard in a hurry. There was – he'd confided in Kurt after much teasing – a girl at court who had captured his attention. Kurt didn't mind – not really. It gave him a chance to gather himself before the Princess's daughter arrived.
He had last seen the girl before she'd left on her tour of the bordering nations. That was almost four years ago now, though - she would no longer be the snotty creature he'd encountered in the corridors. Indeed, when he turned around at the sound of footsteps, he was met by a gangly looking child made up entirely of pointy joints.
"Lady De Sardet," he said, trying to smile. He'd seen recruits her age. They were universally clumsy.
"Master," she said with a nod and a formality that seemed obscene coming from such a small, angular frame, "Though etiquette does demand you call me Your Excellency."
He smirked despite himself, at her earnestly trying to correct him.
"Your Excellency? But I don't know if you are excellent, yet," He grinned and handed her one of the practise swords he'd brought along, "Swing it."
She did so – it was slightly too large for her. Kurt held out a hand and he was impressed when she handed it back to him, hilt first. He found a second sword, shorter and lighter. He handed it to her and watched as she swung it. Satisfied by the movement, he nodded.
"How do you know I'm not excellent?" she said, carefully placing her feet in a defensive stance. He raised his eyebrows and picked up the weapon he'd used with Constantin earlier. He gestured her to come at him.
She took a deep breath and looked like she was trying to steady herself against nerves she didn't want him to see. Then she lunged.
Kurt brushed aside her attack easily, and stepped aside as she took a second swing.
"Not bad, for a beginner. But not excellent."
Her cheeks flushed – embarrassment, rage..?
"I've been reading about this for a year. Been practicing on my own…" Sword in hand, she tried again. Her attack was stronger, but – as he had predicted – clumsy.
"And I mean, it. You're not bad – especially for a green blood," he conceded again, "But I'm not calling you excellency until you've earned it."
He expected her to pout, for her to flounce away like Constantin did when he didn't manage something, but she kicked the dirt, gritted her teeth and faced him, "Then teach me. That's what you're here for, isn't it?"
He laughed then – a loud, hearty sound that surprised even himself. He knew in that moment that even though Constantin had a four year lead on the girl, that she would surpass him quickly enough.
"I suppose it is. We'll start with your stance, then, Greenblood."
And so they began.
