"Lady Rose, are you finished in there?" Marge called through the door before opening it anyway. Typical.
"Yes, I'm ready to go." My voice was muffled by the shift that I am trying to wiggle into, my damp skin making it a challenge. I feel a yank, and it's on, revealing the plump face of my only lady's maid. Few people knew both Will and Rose, fewer still knew we were one and the same. Marge was one and Sam the other. That was it, and Marge disapproved highly of the fact, and took every opportunity to tell me so.
"Mi' Lady, you must stop this foolishness, it's getting more difficult to hide the bruises. Things that no proper lady should have, therefore there should be no reason to hide them." The last bit was mumbled under her breath as she struggled to lace up the corset, and as I try not to wince at every tug. Moments later, I'm ready for dinner, or, as ready as a page/Lady could be.
My mother would never have approved of the life I was leading, but mother wasn't here; and hadn't been for years. She had died with the last major outbreak of unnamed illness that swept through England. Father followed not months after, leaving me with no one but Marge, and nothing but a title. My aunt, who resides in the king's court all season long, took me in. Well, she gave me a room and "left me to it". And "it" turned out to be sewing and gossiping. That was all that there was for a girl of eleven to do in the palace. I was not used to such idleness.
Though I'd grown up the daughter of a well off earl, I was the only child, and therefore, my Father taught me everything he longed to teach a son. I was up at dawn playing with the barn animals and tending to my horse, Black Jack. Then it was breakfast (in a dress at Mother's insistence) and then, fencing practice. Father had taught me swordsmanship as soon as my hands could grip a hilt. We practiced hard until lunch, and I was able to occasionally best him by the time I was nine. After lunch (not in a dress, and often consisting of a sandwich on the floor) I was then free to roam my father's lands as Jack and I wished. We often visited the farmers and I played with the young farm hands. They taught me more peasant-like means of defence such as archery and the sling shot. I never really gained the proficiency that I had with a sword, but it kept my mind and hands busy perfecting my newly learned skills.
When Father died, Aunt showed up and took over everything. She dismissed most of the staff and ordered many of my family treasures to be sold, creating a dowery and spending money for me when she took me to court to find a husband. Aunt had a dinner twice a month, each time with a new young man that had been bribed to flatter and make me fall madly in love. It was my bimonthly torture.
Thankfully, Aunt seemed to believe that these dinners fulfilled her duties as my guardian, and didn't bother with me until the next one. The boys that know me as Will, believe that their pre pubescent friend is a sort of ill werewolf that missed two dinners a month like clockwork. I really don't mind. As long as they didn't guess the truth, they could think what they wanted.
The man I'm meeting tonight is a well known ladies man. Sir Ronald, a pompous know-it-all that believes it's a woman's privilege to gaze upon his majesty. I consider playing ill, but I know that I'll have to face him at some point. He's about a decade older than me (and every other girl that he subjected to his "charms"). He loves to drone on about his times in the crusades with King Richard, and often exaggerates his tales to the point of telling everyone that he had single handedly saved the King from a band of twenty savage Jerusalemites.
Of course, now that King Richard was off at war, many noblemen were trying to get ahead of the game. Constantly fighting one another, paying bandits to invade a town under the care of their rivals… even the king's own brother had began to worm his way into the empty throne. while the cat's away… Oh well, hopefully the crusades would end quickly and bring the king home to sort out his court and his shifty baby brother. I shook my head to rid myself of the pointless politics.
"All done Mi' Lady, just don't fiddle too much with the sleeves and no one will suspect you're a cross-dressing-heathen." She fussed with the dresses' hem, trying to fluff it to its max.
"Thank you" I kissed her cheek, ignoring the jibe at my life outside dresses and dances. I love Marge with all my heart, and know that despite her constant disapproval, she loves me too. She was my nanny before becoming my Lady's maid, and she knows my inclinations toward adventure better than perhaps even Father did. She had always been a second mother, and the loss of my parents was made bearable by this plump woman.
I sigh, and steel myself to knock at Aunt's door. "Enter dear." Her voice is airy, and precise in carrying across the room and through the door, a skill perfected by her constant gossiping. I straighten my back and slip into the well lit room. It's covered in every shade of purple, pink and red, her sickeningly fake personality showing through each trinket, lace and frill. She and Sr. Ronald are sitting at the table, leaning in to each other as they undoubtedly exchanged the latest "news". He looked up and released what he must have believed was a charming smile, and rose to help me into a chair before returning to his chair at the head of the table, Aunt to the right, and I to the left.
The evening passed much as I expected, Aunt fauned over Sr. Ronald and he blabed on and on until I had no choice but to interrupt, telling Aunt of my non existent exhaustion, and excusing myself. As soon as the door closes, I run to my room and toss all of my unnecessary frills off, and change into my Will garb, rub off all the makeup and rip the clips out of my hair. I sigh in relief, grab my sword, and clip it to my belt. Leaving through the old servants entrance through the back of the wardrobe in the corner, I evade Marge's protests at the treatment of my useless outfit. The stairs lead me to a door leading out to the stables, and I lay a hand on the door nob, ready to let the wind carry me and Jack away from Aunt, Sr. Ronald and this whole suffocating castle. Without warning, the events of this afternoon and the pudgy boy that was now in my charge enter my mind, and command my attention. Sighing, I turn from the door and head to the barracks. The boys have to share two to a room, and Sam and I were put together (at our insistence) and I head to our room first to grab Sam and some practice equipment.
"Sam, get up, I need your help."
"Rose, this had better be good." He yawned, stretching like a cat, and smacking his lips a few times before jumping down off the top bunk. He was a light sleeper, probably due the constant threat of death if he and his roommate were discovered. He had saved our skins a few times by detecting footsteps down the hall. Often Old Tom coming for a surprise inspection, or to have us do a few surprise laps around the castle grounds to prepare us for some future night invasion.
Seeing Sam up and rubbing his eyes, I toss his clothes and sword at him. "What the bloody hell is this for?" He grumbles, beginning to put them on anyway.
"I'm in charge of Barney's training, right?"
"Yeah, so?"
"When I first came here, how did I help you learn to hold a sword?"
"Well, you…*Yawn*... took me out at night so I wouldn't have a confidence issue in front of the others." He continued putting on his pants, but stopped, one leg still clad in only his drawers. "Rose, this isn't the same thing. Barney Ward is nothing but a laze about. He'll probably just end up in some library or as a bridge guard. He has no ambition whatsoever."
"Sam, you're helping me, or I'll write to your mother and tell her what you really did instead of visiting her during winter break"
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me, Mr. Ten Pints."
"Fine, but I reserve the right to say 'I told you so'."
"So granted. Now let's go see if you can whip a pig into shape."
"You're doing better," I circle him, inspecting his stance and grip on the sword. " but you need to learn to guard your left flank." I smack at the offending side with the flat of my sword and he shifts to block. "Perfect!" I can't help beaming. He has gone from a noodle throwing its weight around to an adequate opponent in twelve short days.
"One last match and then you can go to bed." Barney nods and slips into the first stance. Sam does the same on the other side of the ring and they begin. Watching, I marvel at Barney's progress. The last couple of days I've really gotten to know him better, he has great strength, but that can be a challenge when starting out in dueling. He kept throwing his weight around, because he wasn't told what to do with it. Simple adjustments and instruction on storing his strength until he struck made him a formidable enemy in no time. I couldn't wait to see how he does when we start jousting.
"Match." Barney's rumbling voice calls out, breathless from the fight. I can see that the tip of his blade is against Sam's neck, and attempt to keep my squeal of delight in.
"Excellent!" I call. "You can go to bed now." He nods and heads off to the showers, a noteable pep in his step.
"Holy crap Sam, did you see that?!" I can't seem to help my voice and hands from vibrating in excitement as I bounce over to him.
"See it? I felt it!" He's rubs his neck, trying to shake off the match. He looks irritated, but I know him well enough to see he's impressed.