This is miserable. I have no idea what my mother was thinking when she put me in these classes. It feels like my very soul is being drained during them. Not to mention she made me have sword lessons with Maxime later and put me in this embarrassing bracelet. It helps me control my magic better yes, but I feel like a child with it. Lecture after lecture, it's the same story: Noble ladies are supposed to do this and that, with a hint of annoying niceness. Going through with this just makes me think of those asshole pretty girls just trying to get a marriage proposal so they can use their husbands while putting down their competition. Isn't it a trope where a fiancé cheats on a girl for an obviously manipulative girl? At least make them try to lie realistically. Not even a current noble will see through a two-face like that. Not like I read those books I just remember reading parodies of those exact stories, and of course, the protagonist is some perfect girl or something. It makes me feel like a failure even though it's horrible writing. Can't all books just be innovative for once? Why the hell am I thinking of novels while this lady lectures me on etiquette? Aren't I supposed to be listening? Whatever, I've faked tests like these before.
"Blanche. Earth to Blanche. You disrespectful little-"
A slap of a metal stick on the table snaps me out of my rant. Damn it she noticed. I look up at my teacher's face. She's a nearby Baroness my mother trusted with teaching me all of the basics of being a noblewoman. I think her name was Baroness Piorette? I mean. She may look nice for an older woman, but she's giving me the stink eye
"What is it"
"I knew it. Not even bothering to listen to me. No wonder your mother said to be patient. You truly exceed your reputation"
"Tch. What did she say exactly"
"That you're a brat in need of retraining."
I did not expect that from an old woman like her. Am In't a child of a countess? Don't I outrank her? You know what no that's not even the bad part. The worst part is that my mother was talking about me like that to some woman I don't know. The lady in front of me looks exasperated as I sit here. I probably look like a child to her. I'm an adult you know.
She looks back into my eyes
"As compensation for ignoring this lecture, I'm giving you extra paperwork to do until… how about next lecture in three days?"
"Whatever."
She sets down a bunch of papers on my desk and my jaw drops. That has to be about 20 papers in it. That's not a punishment. That's a damn death sentence.
"What the hell is this?"
"Your work. I expect all of it to be done. I don't care if it's wrong or not, but answer to the best of your ability. These will help me gauge how much you know and can do."
"This much?"
"Yes that much."
She picks up her things as I scramble to digest how much I have to do. Not only do I have to find time for this I have sword practice with Maxime later. I don't even know how I'm supposed to do all of this. I don't even notice the old woman leave.
I eventually recollect myself and place the work I have to do on a table for later. It can wait for now. My worries right now are how I'm supposed to do sword practice. I've never even held one much less used one. I've never been one to use a sharp metal stick to slash people with, I've always preferred mind games instead of bloodshed. I don't understand what my mother expects swinging a metal stick will do for me.
My stomach grumbles kicking me out of my dread into another. Ugh, I'd rather not deal with this hunger right now. Anytime I drink blood it just makes me feel weird. I wish I didn't feel good about drinking blood. Shouldn't it taste metallic instead of a sweet tea or something? I walk over to a cabinet fashioned for me. It's got some water magic circuits in it to keep the blood cold and preserved. It's like one of those cooling fans or heating machines we nobles buy. It's a luxury item no doubt, but not in the usual sense to keep the temperature neutral in an estate. The magic is so concentrated that it's icy in there. How is this thing even getting the mana to function?
I take out a glass jar filled with some blood and I start drinking it. This one tastes saltier than usual. Can blood taste different? Is it a thing like how pig blood tastes different than human blood or is it dependent on the human? I think this is human blood. Was this just from a sweaty human? Whatever the case it still tastes good and I hate it.
I still have a few hours until sword practice tonight so I might as well take the time to read and get the edge off. Any novel I have would do it. I at least have some quality control unlike some people and their crummy love novels. I've just never understood why people enjoy them so much. So what if a man and woman like each other? I don't need to know anything about that stuff, it's not like I'd ever have that experience. I've seen plenty of candidates avoid me like the plague to the point that my mother gave up on those prospects.
***
It's the time I dreaded and I feel a burning hole in the back of my head. Maxime is staring at the back of my head like I'm wasting his time as I look at the sword rack.
"Maxime… what am I exactly supposed to choose?"
"Just pick the one you feel like you can wield. If it's the wrong one after a bit of practice we'll switch the sword. Would you pick one already?"
The rack itself has four swords to choose from. Each is a different type I suppose. Ones obviously a dagger. I think the one next to it is a short sword, but I can't be sure. The next one looks like a two-handed sword, maybe it's a long sword. This one looks similar to the one Maxime usually wields. The one after that… look I'll be blunt. That one looks heavy and comically large, but it's surprisingly thinner than what I think is the longsword.
Is this a test to see what I'd be comfortable with? I suppose the easiest solution is just to pick up the dagger and try it out. It's slightly heavier than I thought, but I can move it fairly well I think. Maxime looks like he knew I'd pick this one with that smug look of his.
"Can't say I'm surprised Blanche. I'll humor you though. Why don't you try striking me with it?"
I give him a look, an annoyed one at that. Nevertheless, I oblige and try to strike at him. No matter what I do he parries it with his own dagger. While I think it's smart he's using it as a defensive secondary weapon it still pisses me off. I strike harder trying to overpower him and nothing I do works. He's been training with these since he was a kid. He's so confident in teaching me he's allowing steel weapons and I still can't hit him. He knocks me down and holds his primary at my throat.
"So dear sister what did you think of that weapon? Did it feel comfortable or were you too busy trying to hit me to realize it wasn't for you?"
"Tch. You're not exactly helping Max. You didn't even let me hit you once."
"Your goal today should be finding the weapon that's right for you. It's not about hurting me. You should be getting a feel for how these blades flow."
"Flow? I felt like a moron!"
"Just pick another weapon would you?"
I still feel like the flow idea is horrid for teaching. I tried the longsword after and got knocked down again. I tried the short sword. Nothing changed. There is no flow state. I don't feel a connection. This is just plain irritating. I can see the joy on his face. He's taking it out on me for my mother making me the heir. It's not my fault idiot.
"You can't learn if you refuse to try. You're repetitive. You can't just expect an overhead to work every time. I could just sidestep and let you fall on that thing you call a face. I was right to call this a waste of time."
"You can't just expect me to know what I'm doing idiot."
"You're right. I can't. But you still have one sword to try. Try not to break those weak arms wielding it will ya."
I still have the great sword to try. The longsword felt heavy, but I could lift it fine with both hands. The shortsword still made me feel like I was flailing about. He'd block my overheads easily. Deflect it whatever. It's like he's using my strength against me. I aim for his waist, he'd angle his sword so I'd end up hitting the dirt and get a knee in my face. I try a stab, he pushes my thrust into his sword guard then bonks my head with his elbow. He's smart and it pisses me off.
I grab the greatsword with both hands and twirl it a bit. It feels fine I guess. My hands lock into it nicely I suppose. My strength has a hard time moving it. Isn't a greatsword supposed to keep people at a distance? There's a reason so many guards used it in the past to well… guard. I do a few practice swings and I feel pulled around. Maxime is looking at me a bit surprised about something, but I'll ignore it.
My movements feel unnatural with this sword. Maxime described a flow to a weapon, but I still can't see it. I try a slash at Maxime and he blocks it, but my blades are not being forced to the ground. Was my strike too heavy for that? I decide to lunge forward and the next thing I know is I'm falling towards the ground. He sidestepped me and I fell for it. I get up wiping dirt off myself.
"Keep that one."
"Eh? What do you mean keep that one?"
"Of course, you didn't notice it. How did the blade feel Blanche"
"It felt like a heavy weapon throwing me about"
I'm looking at him confused and he's looking at me like I should've found something.
"Your strikes. They were faster. Your hands looked like they had wielded this weapon before. Your stance while inexperienced held a semblance of competence. For once. I think the greatsword is the one for you. Something other than your charlatan odd jobs."
"You're just saying random things and trying to make me feel better. You still beat me with something as simple as a dodge."
"Whatever you say, Blanche. Pack up for the day. We will begin strengthening your muscles next time."
With that, he walks off and I end up putting the greatsword away. What did he even mean by those things? They were going into one ear and out the other. I bet he's enjoying seeing me fail, some brother he is. I end up walking back towards my room as there is nothing left for me here. I just feel uncomfortable being out here alone. Tomorrow is another day, but why do I have to go through this? If I'm supposed to do this for the rest of my life how am I supposed to be myself? This body doesn't feel like me anymore. I keep dismissing the issue, but how long do I have to do that?
Maybe I'm thinking too hard about this. I just need some sleep.