"Alright, lads! It's time for a break. Be back in half an hour. Do what you see fit."
As the other recruits walked away, you were the last to follow. You'd taken the hint now that they weren't exactly fond of you, and you didn't really look forward to the breaks at all; although lunch wasn't too bad; on the days you remembered to actually bring it.
You sat in your usual spot, by a tree just on the outskirts of town. You liked to relax and look at the clouds, or just take time to think. On occasion, you'd focus on honing your attack and defense skills. Today was one of those days.
Sometimes, practising was the only escape that could take your mind off of things. Above all, you wanted to become strong for yourself, so that you could defend yourself and all that you held dear, as well as showing everyone that women were capable fighters - sometimes even more so than men. Although a part of you also wanted to do well to impress Royland. You knew he tried his best to be a good teacher - and he was, if people just listened and mimicked him properly - but you wanted to show him how much potential you had, and maybe even surpass him.
You were lost in thought, swinging your blade into a training dummy repetitively, using different techniques and angles. However, your focus perished as you felt a large shadow loom over you. Turning white in the face, you held a defensive stance, doing a 180, only to meet the pale coffee-coloured eyes of your abecedary.
"I didn't realise you were so dedicated; keep it up. Your practise shows through more and more every day." You try to conceal your blush, casually wiping your face with your hand.
"Thank you very much, Ser."
"Don't thank me, (Y/N). You're the one putting in the extra work, not me." Royland retrieved a monochrome handkerchief from behind his back, that he'd evidently been hiding since he'd walked in. You accepted it gracefully, and thanked him, noticing it had the House Forrester sigil imprinted in the right hand corner.
You shake your head and sigh, mopping your brow with the handkerchief. "We both know that's not true, Royland. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't even know these techniques."
When you peered at his face next, you saw something you'd have never expected!
Royland was blushing!
"Are you alright, Ser? You seem to have gone red in the face." Bringing attention to it only deepened his blush. "Yes, it's just that... No one other than Rodrik refers to me by… my name." Oh no! Did you offend him? Wait. When did you even say that? A simple slip of the tongue was all it took. "I'm so sorry, Ser, please forgive me! I didn't mean to refer to you so disrespectfully, I-"
Royland shook his head, and held a gloved finger to your lips. "It's fine. I don't hate it or anything. It's just something I'm not used to. You can keep using it, if you want to... I don't mind."
Did this really just happen?
"I... Okay then. But what do you prefer to be called?"
"Just 'Royland' is acceptable. For you, at least." An amused smirk tugged on the corner of your lips.
"Is that so? What have I done to earn this privilege, exactly?"
"Well, you are always punctual and do your best during training - and outside of training too, it seems. I daresay you're my best recruit yet." The use of 'yet' made you feel a bit disheartened, but at that moment, he was using such a calm, mellow tone that you had never heard him use before, which, despite being surprising, made you happy. You dared hope this was a sign he was comfortable around you - or perhaps more.
"Thank you very much, Se- Royland." He chuckled again, and awkwardly itched the back of his neck. "Well, break's over now. We'd better leave before tongues start to wag." You laugh at that. "I'm sure they already have."
The knight commander shrugged. "Good point."