Music, history, etiquette, diplomacy, literature. This morning had been dedicated to these and similar topics, and the young lady Sybil was finding herself exhausted. As the lessons finally concluded, she rose from her seat and exited the library.
The long corridor leading to her room was decorated with paintings and sculptures, and as she passed by, her gaze briefly scanned them. A few servants greeted her on the way, but otherwise, the hallways were empty. Everyone seemed to be busy, preparing for her father's arrival the next day. It had been a month since the last time she saw him, and she wasn't looking forward to their meeting. She had to make the most out of this day, before he was back, and his expectations were suffocating her again.
In the seclusion of her chambers, a change into more comfortable attire signaled her intention to embrace a moment of respite. Exiting her room, she navigated through the mansion's elegant architecture, drawn to the guard quarters adjacent to the main residence.
The sun shone bright and warm as she made her way across the yard, the breeze carrying a hint of the approaching spring. The unmistakable sounds of blades clashing emanated from the training grounds, enticing her towards the source. She spotted Kurt among the fighters, engaging in a sparring session. The scene offered a stark contrast to the intellectual rigor of her lessons, a divergence she found both compelling and invigorating.
Choosing to remain in the shadows, Sybil observed the ongoing spar, her attention fixed on Kurt's impressive display of swordsmanship. He fought with an intensity and confidence, which inspired admiration and awe in the spectators. Seeing him in the ring last night had been a pleasant surprise, and witnessing him clash against the other combatants had made her crave for a sparring session with him. It had been a while, and she was eager to see how much her skills had progressed.
She watched with fascination as Kurt expertly parried his opponent's attack, seamlessly transitioning into a counterattack. The clanging of blades reverberated across the courtyard, as the fighters moved swiftly, each searching for an opening. Kurt's movements were a dance of deadly precision, his body a well-tuned instrument in synchrony with the greatsword he wielded. With every step, every thrust, every parry, his body flowed, his muscles taut and his posture steady. In a swift sequence, Kurt disarmed his opponent, his blade poised above the defeated fighter's chest. The courtyard fell into a momentary hush, the tension lingering in the air, before Kurt stepped back, acknowledging the conclusion of the sparring session.
Seeing the match had come to an end, Sybil pushed herself away from the wall and walked towards the fighters. The guards respectfully stepped aside as she approached, and Kurt lowered his sword, shifting his focus to her.
"Lady Sybil." He bowed his head, sweat glistening on his brow. "Is there something you need?" He was still out of breath, but he remained respectful and cordial. Sybil couldn't help but to smile— Kurt definitely was a true soldier in every sense; Dedicated, loyal, and disciplined. Not to mention the tall, muscular build, the visible battlescars, the stern expression and those piercing gray eyes that could make a lesser woman swoon.
"I had the most dreadful morning," Sybil groaned, reaching for a sword from the weapon rack. "I need to blow off some steam— You up for a match?"
"You've barely slept. You should get some rest." Kurt suggested, running his fingers through his dark brown undercut, pushing the loose strands away from his face.
"Nonsense," Sybil scoffed, rolling her shoulders and stretching her arms. "But, well, if you're not up for it, maybe one of your men could..?" She pursed her lips, scanning the group. "Anyone?"
From the corner of his eye, Kurt could see many of the hands being raised. All these young men were eager to spar with the heiress of the Harbird house, the beautiful lady they had been serving and protecting. Some were motivated by their desire to impress her, others were motivated by their desire for her, but most were just eager for a challenge; Lady Sybil was known as a fearsome combatant, and they craved the opportunity to test themselves against her.
Still, all it took was Kurt's murderous glare to make them quickly withdraw their hands; No one was willing to risk his wrath.
"Very well," Kurt grumbled, his hand grasping the hilt of his blade. "I shall oblige, m'lady."
"Excellent!" Sybil beamed, turning around to face him. Dressed in a casual white shirt and dark blue trousers, she wielded a training sword, its tip pointed at Kurt as she assumed a battle-ready stance. The training grounds buzzed with anticipation as the combatants prepared for a duel that promised both skill and spectacle.
Kurt responded with a smirk, lifting his blade, and then lunged forward. Sybil deftly parried his strike, stepping backward, and retaliated with a counterattack. The two engaged in a swift and graceful dance, their blades flashing and ringing as they exchanged blows. Sybil was light on her feet, her moves agile and swift, and Kurt was impressed with her form. She had improved greatly, and it was evident that she had been practicing.
The fight lasted longer than the previous one, the two exchanging blows and parries with ease. Finally, after a lengthy, intense duel, Sybil found herself at a disadvantage. She was struggling, her breathing heavy and her muscles straining. Still, she refused to yield, her spirit fierce and her determination unwavering.
"Growing tired, little bird?" Kurt taunted, his blade coming to a halt inches from her chest.
"I'm just getting started," Sybil hissed, her grip tightening on the hilt of her sword. "Come on!" The challenge echoed through the training grounds, and Sybil, despite her weariness, stood defiant, ready for the next exchange.
Her focus was momentarily averted, though, when a quiet voice of a servant called for her from afar.
"M'lady, may I have a word with you?" The servant was standing by the fence, fidgeting nervously.
"Oh, not now, I'm busy..!" Sybil snapped, her attention torn between her opponent and the servant. "Alright, let's do this." She lifted her blade, blocking one more of Kurt's attacks, but then the servant spoke again.
"But, it's urgent, m'lady! It's about your father!" The servant exclaimed, her voice desperate.
"What? My father?!" Sybil, who was still fighting to push her opponent's blade from her throat, snapped her head towards the servant. "What happened? Is he okay?"
"No, no, he's fine! But he's-" The servant stammered, her words faltering. "He's arrived early. He's waiting for you."
"Shit!" Sybil cursed, her knuckles white from the force of her grip. Her father was home early, and she was unprepared. Her focus slipping, she nearly forgot about the sword pressed against her chest. When her stance faltered, Kurt seized the opportunity.
"You're getting distracted, m'lady." Kurt smirked, his blade pushing harder against hers. Then, with a powerful shove, he knocked her off balance, and she lost her footing, falling to the ground.
"Dammit!" She cursed again, her hand landing on the dusty ground.
"Better luck next time, little bird." Kurt said, a playful smile curving his lips as he extended his hand, offering his assistance.
But, Sybil didn't move. Her chest was heaving, her breaths short and heavy, her gaze fixed up to the sky above. Her eyes were glistening, and for a moment, Kurt thought he saw tears. But, before he could say anything, she rose to her feet, dusting herself off.
"Thank you for the sparring session, Captain," She spoke, her voice stiff and formal. "That will be all."
And with that, she turned and walked away, her strides brisk and her expression sullen.
"M'lady?" Kurt called out to her, but she didn't turn around. "Sybil!"
She continued her way to the main house, leaving him staring at her retreating figure.
"Damn, I'm sorry, Kurt. Looks like your lady friend left." One of the guards approached him, patting him on the shoulder. "You did good, though, I'm impressed. Maybe someday, you'll finally get a kiss from her."
Hearing his words, Kurt felt anger flare up inside him. Without hesitation, he grabbed the guard's arm and twisted it behind his back, pressing his blade against the man's neck.
"Listen here, and listen good." He growled, his voice low and menacing, jaw clenched. The grip on the man's wrist tightened as he delivered his warning. "You're talking about the daughter of the house— If I hear one more word about this, you'll end up losing your tongue. Are we clear?"
"Y-yes, sir!" The guard squeaked, his face drained of color.
"Good." Kurt released him, and the man stumbled, nearly tripping. "Dismissed!"
As the group dispersed, Kurt made his way to his quarters. Once inside, he closed the door and leaned his back against it. His fingers ran through his hair, exhaling a heavy sigh that carried the weight of the moment.
He wanted to admit it or not, the guard's words had struck a chord within him; He had always had a bit of a temperament, and seeing his men mocking and disrespecting Sybil, even in a good-natured manner, had ignited his fury.
Kurt closed his eyes and sighed again— He knew better than to let his emotions take control. He had to keep his cool, and remain focused.
"What am I going to do with you, little bird..."
Kurt didn't see the young heiress for the rest of the day. The next day, he was called upon by her father.
His steps echoed against the marble floors as he made his way through the opulent halls of the mansion, his gaze wandered around, admiring the artwork and the elegant furnishings. The delicate tapestries and polished furniture were a stark contrast to the utilitarian simplicity of the guard quarters, a reminder of the cavernous gap between the noble elite and the common soldiers. He was a simple man, and didn't require the fancy, luxurious lifestyle, but he appreciated the beauty and refinement of it all, not forgetting the artistry, craftsmanship, and attention to detail that went into creating such an environment.
Yet, amidst the splendor, worry gnawed at Kurt's mind. Lady Sybil's absence lingered in his thoughts like a persistent shadow— She hadn't been looking forward to her father's arrival, her mood sullen for the past few days. Hearing that her father had returned earlier than expected had made her seemingly distressed, and the fact that he hadn't seen her ever since, didn't put his mind at ease.
Kurt had just arrived at the entrance of Lord Harbird's study when a faint sound of music reached his ears. He paused, his gaze shifting to the far end of the hallway. A pair of double doors, slightly ajar, beckoned him, and the soft notes of the violin grew more pronounced with each step, coaxing him closer. He had heard Lady Sybil practice a couple of times before, her music sometimes echoing through the estate grounds, but never he had seen her play.
Coming to a halt at the threshold, Kurt hesitated; He didn't want to disturb the young noblewoman, but his curiosity was getting the better of him. Peering inside, he could see Sybil, holding the violin, her expression sullen as she played.
The melody was sad and slow, a sorrowful tune that tugged at his heartstrings. There was a wistful expression on her face, a deep longing and sadness, and Kurt's brows furrowed. She seemed so vulnerable and fragile, a stark contrast to the rebellious, fiery woman he was accustomed to. The ashen cascade of her hair flowed freely over her shoulders, and her silken dress was a soft, pale blue, making her look even more delicate and frail.
He didn't move or make a sound, just stood there, transfixed by her. He watched as her slender fingers caressed the strings, her movements graceful and fluid. He watched her expression change as the melody rose, her features soft and serene, her eyes closed. The music filled his ears and his soul, and he found himself mesmerized.
Time seemed to lose its meaning as he stood there, spellbound by the musical reverie. When the final notes hung in the air, Lady Sybil opened her eyes and her gaze met his.
"Kurt?" She blinked, her surprise evident.
"My apologies, m'lady." Kurt cleared his throat, his voice coming out more husky than he intended. "Your father sent for me."
"Oh, I see." Sybil nodded. "I think he's still in the meeting, but he'll see you soon. You can wait here, if you like." She suggested, gesturing for him to enter.
"Thank you, m'lady." Kurt bowed his head. As he stepped inside, he couldn't help but to stare at her, his gaze lingering. The delicate fabric of her pale blue dress draped gracefully, accentuating her curves. Though the neckline was modest, the sheer beauty of her silhouette stirred a quiet intensity within him, making his pulse quicken. Quickly averting his gaze, he cleared his throat, hoping that she didn't notice his wandering eyes. "That was a beautiful melody," He spoke, desperate to divert her attention. "You play very well, m'lady."
"It's quite rare to find a soldier appreciating music," Sybil remarked, her gaze lingering on the instrument."But, I appreciate the sentiment. Thank you." A subtle smile graced her lips as she delicately tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's an old piece, one of my favorites."
"I've never heard it before." Kurt admitted, shifting to lean against the table. "You have a talent, little bird."
"Why, thank you, kind sir." Sybil's eyes sparkled, a hint of a blush gracing her cheeks. "I haven't always agreed on the lessons my father insisted I should attend, but I have to admit, this is one of the rare ones I've actually enjoyed." She smirked, her tone taking on a playful note. "But we'll see if he comes up with the idea that music is 'too passionate a hobby for a young lady', and forces me to quit."
"If he does, it would be a shame." Kurt chuckled lightly at her banter but soon shifted to a more serious tone again. "Did he give you a hard time yesterday?"
"Not really. I mean, he was annoyed at first, and wanted to know what I've been doing, but he seemed a little preoccupied." Sybil's smile faltered a little, her gaze growing distant. "But, the usual. He's trying to set me up with another suitor. I think he's starting to lose his patience."
"Well, that's what fathers do, right? Trying to find a suitable match for their daughters, and all that." Kurt shrugged, a teasing smile curving his lips. "It's just how it's done."
"Easy for you to say," Sybil scoffed. "You don't have a father who insists on finding you a husband."
"That's because I'm not the heiress to the family fortune."
"Lucky bastard." Sybil muttered, rolling her eyes. "Besides, my father has a very particular taste in men. Completely opposite of mine, of course."
"Is that so?" Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat, shifting his weight nervously. He considered asking about her preferences, but hesitated; It wasn't his place to pry. "You should tell him that."
"He wouldn't listen. He's got his heart set on this suitor." She sighed, her expression dejected. "He's perfect, just the way father likes; Handsome, rich, and boring. Oh, and a complete asshole."
"Sounds like a real catch." Kurt gave her a slight smile. Then, he tilted his head, glancing at the instrument. "Would you care to play some more? Perhaps, another melody?" He suggested, trying to steer the conversation towards safer territory.
"Really? You want to hear me play again?" She asked, her expression shifting to a hopeful, but somewhat puzzled look.
"Of course," He spoke, and her eyes widened. "I'd love to."
"Well, then. How could I possibly say no to such a gentleman?" Sybil flashed a bright smile and turned to the violin, positioning her bow. "Let me play you something a little bit more... lively." Her eyes sparkled with mirth, and her nimble fingers danced across the strings, bringing the violin to life.
As the lively, joyous melody echoed throughout the room, the corners of Kurt's mouth curved upwards, forming a content smile. This was the woman he was used to seeing; Cheerful, vibrant, and full of life. Her laughter was like music to his ears, and watching her now, he couldn't help but admire the playfulness in her eyes and the grace with which she moved. She had a certain glow about her, the radiance she exuded making her all the more enchanting.
He could have happily watched her for hours, her face flushed with the joy of the music, her hair swaying in rhythm, and her slender fingers expertly stroking the strings. However, the magic was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Captain—" The butler of the house entered the room, bowing his head with formality. "Lord Harbird has finished his meeting; He is expecting you now."
"Alright. Thank you," Kurt acknowledged, stepping away from the table. He turned to Sybil, giving her a polite bow. "M'lady, if you'll excuse me."
"Of course." Sybil curtsied in return, a subtle smile playing on her lips.
With that, Kurt departed, following the butler to Lord Harbird's study, leaving behind the lingering melody that seemed to echo in the air.
As Kurt stepped into the room, he found the Duke's silhouetted against the tall window, his eyes fixed on the sprawling estate below. The room was adorned with rich tapestries and shelves lined with leather-bound books, giving an air of intellectual refinement. Lord Harbird himself was a tall, burly man, his broad frame clad in a lavish crimson velvet suit, and his beard was neatly trimmed and groomed. He turned to face Kurt, his stern expression giving nothing away.
"Captain—" He acknowledged with a nod. "I trust the security of my household has been maintained in my absence."
"Yes, my lord," Kurt replied, his voice steady. "All has been well."
"Good." Lord Harbird walked purposefully to his desk, a masterpiece of intricate carving, and settled into the ornate chair behind it.
As Kurt stood there before the Duke, memories flooded back to their initial encounter two years ago. The Duke had summoned him to discuss the safety measures for his daughter. The meeting had been brief, the Duke's imposing presence intimidating, but Kurt had accepted the responsibility willingly. Since then, his life had been a relentless cycle of serving the family and ensuring the well-being of the young heiress.
"I would like to commend you on your service." The Duke's deep, commanding voice pulled him back to the present. "My daughter speaks highly of you, and she insists that she could not have a better guardian."
"I am honored, Your Grace." Kurt bowed his head, his gaze lowered respectfully.
"You have proven to be the most loyal and efficient servant, Captain. My daughter is a spirited young woman, and can be quite... challenging, but I am confident that she is in safe hands." Lord Harbird gave Kurt a nod of approval, his tone more amiable. "Tell me, Captain; How has my daughter's behavior been lately? Is she still as troublesome and rebellious?" He inquired, gesturing one of the servants to pour him another glass of wine.
"Well," Kurt hesitated, his fingers clenching and unclenching. He had no desire to lie, and the last thing he wanted was to get Sybil into trouble. "She has matured a lot since we first met. She still is indeed quite... spirited, but I think it's a natural part of her personality. She has a strong sense of justice and a desire to help people." He spoke, carefully choosing his words.
"Hm." Lord Harbird grunted, swirling the deep red wine in the crystal glass. "Perhaps you have been a good example for her. And, what about her manners? Does she behave appropriately, in public and private?"
"I believe so," Kurt responded. "She has impeccable manners, and I have not observed her doing anything inappropriate." Except bashing skulls at the underground ring, but he was not going to mention that.
"Good, good." The Duke nodded, his stern countenance softening slightly. "My daughter is at a very tender age. I hope she hasn't had any improper encounters with men?"
Kurt straightened, a subtle tension in his shoulders as he responded. "No, my lord. No such thing has happened."
"And, what about her... affections? Has she taken an interest in anyone?" The Duke's tone became more probing, his gaze carefully studying the guard captain in front of him.
Kurt froze, his throat constricting. He was not prepared for that question, and he was not sure how to answer it. He hesitated, momentarily grappling with the unspoken dynamics between him and Lady Sybil— His mind flashed back to their earlier encounter, to the way she looked at him, the way her eyes lingered. But, he shook his head, dismissing those thoughts. It was just wishful thinking, he told himself.
"I am not aware of any romantic entanglements, my lord." Kurt finally spoke, his voice calm and composed. "Lady Sybil has remained focused on her duties and responsibilities, and hasn't expressed any interest in men."
"Hmm." The Duke paused, his contemplative gaze fixed on Kurt. A swirl of wine danced in his glass as he pondered his response. "Very well. I shall trust your word." His austere features softened momentarily, a brief, satisfied smile gracing his lips. "I am glad to hear that she has not given you too much trouble." With a deliberate sip of his wine, he continued. "But I still worry that she's not ready for her future duties as a Duchess. As her guardian, I trust you would help her become a more refined young woman, so she could one day marry well, and become a good Duchess."
"Of course, Your Grace," Kurt replied. "I will do everything I can to assist her."
"Thank you, Captain," The Duke spoke, his voice softer. "I trust your judgment and loyalty. If there's anything you think would help her, please, do not hesitate to suggest it."
"Actually..." Kurt cleared his throat, a small frown crossing his brow. "There is something I would like to propose."
"Oh?" The Duke raised a brow. "What is it?"