While was holding practice of the Orchestra outside in the inner courtyard for the amusement of Duchess Celeste. She sat in view of Tawu practicing his archery sorting her mail. Mostly from the many admirers she met throughout her 16 years. All young men in her age range and after her hand in marriage. Some came with a dowry in hopes of marriage with her. Others sounded like a business agreement then a proposal. Put into two stacks after she sliced them one with her sterling silver letter opened. Read them with a rather disappointed mood toward each one.
"Not romantic enough for you?" He asked her, "Which I think is a waste."
"Conveying one's feelings on paper?" She asked, "Bothers you?"
"Fact. My rare time, I get to practice," He looked at the Orchestra and then what she was doing, "Being interrupted by a spoiled brat is a tad bothersome."
When she told the Orchestra to play a bit louder after she tried to lose composure over his comment. Had him wanting to turn his recent arrows toward her love letters and use them as target practice. Which he knew would be going to get him lectured by Rogers and Uberta. Left to him to breathe and roll his shoulders to go on as he relaxed. Flexing fingers when he watched his arrows pierced their targets when launched. Sticking to the pace taught him when he was taught archery by Rogers. One he liked besides fencing in which he started up when his archery practice was done. Even when he was going through the steps with foil in hand. A few feet away with a glass pen in one hand and scribbling page after page. Celeste was found replying to letters that she approved in carefully sorted wording. Ones he finished were given a second or two to dry before through a sealing process, and be sent off.
"Do you even know who you're writing to?" He wondered, "Do they even know you well enough to be writing to you so personally?"
"Some I met through my uncle or my grandparents." She answered him.
"You have a uncle?" He asked.
"Last time I actually saw him," Celeste recalled as she paused in her writing, "A month before you arrived."
"I know I am going to regret this," Tawu slammed his eyes shut, "Where is he now?"
"Across the channel finishing his studies," She lifted up a letter from him, "Eager to come home and smother me."
"Wish I could remember." Tawu replied.
A head full of cobwebs no matter what Rogers did to help him recall any part of his memories. Hadn't worked over the past few days spent with numerous methods. Hypnosis just left Tawu refreshed after he slept for a few hours under watchful eyes. Being shown random images on a slide projector was more entertaining. Scents and sounds led to them discovering he had advanced senses beyond human ones. Visualization becomes more of sitting quietly with one's eyes closed. Last resort of writing down just had him staring at blank paper for hours.
"I forgot," She felt foolish for recalling, "You have no memory."
"Please don't remind me." He recalled his latest headache.
He always got blurry images or blank spots in his mental landscape. Usual left him needing to lay down when the room got spiny for him. Nothing he was able to make out had him slowly giving up.
"Now I feel a bit silly just sitting here and writing." She puts her pen down.
Tawu paused his fencing with his partner when Celeste went quiet. Making his way toward her to pick her pen and hand it back to her. Even going as far to move her inkwell closer.
"My lack of a past shouldn't keep you from this," He admitted, "Distracts me from laying around with aching head."
She ended up being able to plant a kiss upon his cheek for such nice words. Made him blink while he slowly processed what she just did. Had him mumbling about her being a sly thing as he returned to fencing. Not seeing the swirls slide across her face as her scribbling started back up. Which he ended up using to set his pace for the rest of his practice time. Ended with her leaving him a serving tray of food on a nearby table. Creamed soup with a cheesy thickness with broccoli chucks and bread. A pot of tea with a chipped cup was also there for him.
"Not so much a spoiled brat after all." He felt his opinion of her was wrong.
He ate in silence as he started up his academic studies that Rogers created from him. His own pen scribbled away on paper after he sat down. Not knowing he was being watched with curious eyes. Celeste was told once by Rogers that Tawu didn't need tutors. He somehow had a high intellect for someone his own age, that allowed him to independently study. Left her to look at the books she was currently learning from thanks to her parents. Unlike most girls her age from noble families being married off. She was being allowed to further her studies despite being third in line.
8*8
Celeste wandered off to the forge, an area she heard the swan wind chimes were crafted by her grandparents. What she witnessed was his Forbidden Arts like magic. He took a chunk of scrap metal with materials and altered the state using a strange foregoing ritual. One where a series of magic circles she hadn't seen appeared under his feet. In the center of the smallest circle, his scrap metal with materials are gathered in a magical sphere. Where he starts molding through verbal commands as materials go through stages of changing while directing their actions. Once complete, an item was forged within moments with these weird features added to them.
"I don't like spying." Tawu called out.
"Does my grandfather know your magical weaponry?" She asked him.
"Roger's idea to prove I'm not all bad," Tawu answered her, "He's impressed with what I can do."
"Then may I help test a few of these?" She asked.
He looked like she was wearing the same dress she wore the night they met before answering. Which has him sighing when down went his toll and off came his apron. His mesomorph body encased in sweat soaked shirt framing his muscles. Pants and boots he wore didn't help the image being presented to her.
"Something wrong?" He felt her eyes on him.
"No." She continued staring.
He rolled his eyes at her when he hushed the flames of the forge when shutting things down. When he pulled off his gloves he wore to work to mold the metal. Celeste made a big huff when she saw his nailed down and clipped nails.
"What did great- grandmother do?" She knew Uberta was behind his altered nails.
"I went with her on what she called a spa day," He recalled, "Only allowed my nails to be done."
"I liked them before." She whines.
"Such a spoiled brat." He fixed his hair.
He ran his fingers through his tresses with a relaxing sigh before he began to move. Picking up one of the chakri Celeste eyed when she was watching them. Making his way passed her to outside of the forge area. Lifting the flat side to the edge of the door to gently tap the metallic surface. Activated a strange wave pattern carved into the surface that glowed. Toward the sky Celeste looked when she watched clouds roll in and darken. Light rain that started to pour down held a cooling effect over a soaking one.
"One can summon a chilly downpour of rain," He explained, "Both can cause a severe hailstorm. Also a spell linked to them when used in a fight one could use. When enemies are struck by both of these at the same time. Ensures the ice block is so solid, it takes hours to melt."
"Do they have a name?" She wondered.
"Hailstorm Call." He closed his eyes.
He ended up walking back into the put down chakri and picked up an umbrella. He used it quickly to shelter Celeste from the chill despite her clothes not getting soaked. By standing close to her and holding the umbrella over her head.
"Does your family know you're here?" He asked.
"I finished my lessons and went for a walk." Her only answer to him.
He sighed when he handed the umbrella over to her when bodily function needed to happen. One he ignored when he got caught up in working in the forge. That had him rushing toward the nearest bush for lower cover. Undoing fastening of his pants with his back turned to her to quickly release himself. Signing in relief when a yellow stream poured out when he aimed for the ground. Disliking himself for doing this in a women's presence despite much needed relief.
"How long are you going to be?" She asked him.
"A few minutes." She could hear the relief in his voice.
She waited for him to finish up not wanting to interrupt what he was doing a minute later. He would end up finishing and fixing the fastening back. Making his way out of the bush with a mental note he needed to not make that a habit.
"Feeling better?" She asked him, trying to not laugh.
"Much." He went into forge to wash his hands.
Up he rolled his sleeve pointing out her choice was clothing wasn't good for weapon testing. That she needed something with less fabric and formed her body. Along with asking her about pulling her hair out of her face since long hair would get in the way. Which soured her mood to the point she insisted he walk her back. Not accepting a single excuse from him about what he was doing. She straightens her posture and looks upon him as an escort. He had to fix his clothing and pull his coat back on to be presentable. Mumbling under his breaths how she was a spoiled brat.
The next day around this time he was surprised when she appeared again. This time she wore pants that laced up on the sides and embroidery blouse under a simple vest. Ballet flats she wore were made of the same material as his boots. As her hair was in a secured braid bun and perfect set of fingerless gloves. While she has a young squire with her outside the forge.
"Your bodyguard?" Tawu asked out of annoyance.
"Someone who can help you out and how do I look?" She asked him.
"Manageable." He didn't give her a second look.
She the whole day until they finished showed she was more than a spoiled brat. She could handle a sword like a knight or a fencing expert. She had no trouble with a bow or a whip for that matter. Tawu took throwing knives away from her when she got too many bull's eyes. She took a strong liking to the rose themed swords, rapiers, and weapons. Taking a single rose from each attack launched from the blade. Which resulted in a small bouquet of individual roses in her arms.
"What are you going to do with those?" The squire asked her.
"I have an idea." She smirked.
The idea had her taking advantage of the need for new clothes being made for her. Their color was inspired by the flora arrangement of roses in her bedroom. They are to be simple in designs with not too much flare like her usual gowns. They also are functional for her to do remedial tasks in.
