Changing Her Stars

Chapter Twelve

Tying her hair up into a ponytail, Leria could only smile at the reflection she saw in the mirror. Donned in light tan pants and an off-white blouse, which she tucked into the trousers, she was eager with anticipation. It had been such a long time since she had worn such an outfit to practice her sword fighting skills. Though she had had to borrow the articles of clothing, nothing was going to stop her from picking up a sword once more. A part of her knew she should personally thank the duke for letting her practice with Ezair, but she wasn’t sure how to even begin the conversation with him. They hadn’t spoken alone and face-to-face since the day he left. His letters were standoffish and terse, which cautioned her from being friendly. He was an enigma, and she didn’t know how to even begin figuring him out.

Doing her best to put those thoughts aside, she reached for the handle and pulled her bedroom door open. She stood toe-to-toe to her husband, his hand in the air as if to knock on the door.

“M’lord,” she said, surprise evident in her tone as she bowed her head to him.

“So, this is where you’ve holed yourself up,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest and pushing into the room.

He looked displeased, and his tone suggested that he wasn’t in a good mood. They hadn’t seen each other in months, and he had said he missed her, yet this was how he wanted their first real interaction to go? Leira found herself getting frustrated immediately.

“What do you mean by that?” she questioned bitterly before she could stop herself.

He turned and raised an eyebrow at her. “This room couldn’t be farther from mine or the duchess’s room for that matter. Do you hate the idea so much that you don’t even want to be near me or your position? All I’ve heard from the staff is how much you work and how you barely leave the office you’ve taken over, but you choose a guest room to reside in, and a shabby one at that? ”

Speechless, she only stared at him in return. When the staff had shown her the room, she had assumed that he had placed her there on purpose. She thought he had wanted to slight her out of anger and spite.

“You, you think I chose this room?” she finally managed to ask.

“Obviously,” he stated. “I instructed Mrs. Varn to let you see the place and pick out the room you favored until you could decorate the Duchess’s room to your liking, which I saw was still the way I left it. So, not only have you snubbed the room, but you didn’t even put in the effort to decorate it in a manner in which you’d inhabit it.”

Swallowing the snide remark on her tongue, Leira attempted to hold in her anger, “I don’t much appreciate your tone, m’lord. I have slaved away these last couple of months for you and your estate. I helped your people, kept them from starving, and fixed the roofs over their heads. Instead of praising me or even thanking me for all I’ve done, you have instead come in here and berated me for occupying a room Mrs. Varn showed me on the first day after a very long journey. I did not receive a tour; I did not receive an offer to choose which room I wanted, and I did not even get the chance to redecorate as you seem to believe. Perhaps, rather than making these bold assumptions, perhaps you should talk to your wife and find out the truth.”

Silence descended upon them both. She immediately regretted speaking out of turn. Though everything she had said had happened, she shouldn’t have made it look like she was placing the blame on the staff. A real duchess would’ve accepted the duke’s words and taken responsibility, no matter who’s fault it had been. This was yet another mark against her. In fact, Leira was shocked that she hadn’t been divorced yet. After he had left so abruptly, she had anxiously awaited for the papers to arrive. She had been given a carriage ride instead.

Unable to bear the awkwardness any longer, Leira gave in, “I’m sorry, m’lord. I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me.”

“No.”

She was baffled and met his piercing gaze with her confused one. “No? W-why?”

He let out a sigh and uncrossed his arms as he slumped into a chair. “Because you’re right, and I’m the one who should be apologizing. Though, this is our estate and our lands–yours and mine.”

Leira was stunned once again. She couldn’t help but see how tired he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes, and fatigue was etched into his features. His eyes seemed to hold a sadness she couldn’t comprehend. This morning was anything from what she had expected. She had thought that she would be beginning her practice with Ezair by now rather than arguing with her husband.

“I…” he started, his words escaping him. “I wanted–”

A small knock interrupted them as Ezair stood in the doorway. Both of them turned to look at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you’d both be here. Should I just wait out in the training grounds, or…?” he asked innocently.

Leira turned to the duke, nonverbally asking for permission. She couldn’t tell if the conversation was really over or not, but she wanted to begin her lessons more than she wanted to fight with her husband.

The duke nodded coldly. “Sure, go on ahead. No need to wait. We’re done anyway.”

Giving Ezair a huge smile, she followed him out. Leira was about to turn her head to glance back at the duke, but changed her mind. He wouldn’t want to see her any more than he had to. His impromptu visit was just that: spontaneous. He was doing his duty as the duke to check on his wife, whom he hadn’t seen in months. It was nothing more than duty.

They arrived at the training grounds shortly after. Leira eagerly grabbed one of the wooden swords in the stand. She wasn’t brazen enough nor egotistical enough to assume she could still wield a steel sword after so many years.

“You seem excited,” Ezair chuckled.

“I am. It’s been too long, and it’ll be great exercise. Though, I’m already mortified by how rusty my skills must be.”

“Well, all we can do is test them! I’m sure everything you learned previously will come flooding back. You’re a natural with the sword, and you were such a quick study. You have nothing to be ashamed of or any reason to be embarrassed. We’ll go whatever pace you need.”

She smiled at him. He somehow always knew what to say and how to put her at ease. She had missed him dearly and could hardly believe he was standing in front of her presently.

“All right,” Leira replied, holding the sword out in front of her.

Her feet immediately went into the first beginning stance of the apprentice. She jerked her head down at her feet before looking back up at Ezair with a huge grin.

“Did you see that?!”

“See? You still got it!” he laughed at her. “Though, I seriously doubt you regressed as a beginner. Come on, now. Get into Sturdy Stance.”

Leira nodded once, her body responding to the command, and her feet shifting in the dirt into the correct pose. She held her sword firmly in her hands out before her, ready for Ezair to begin the spare. This was the most alive she’d felt since arriving in Ardroth, and she couldn’t help but smile with anticipation for the upcoming skirmish.

At the renown Aleyne Academy, which was the most prestigious knight academy in all of Croxiar, where only applicants who could use aura could enter the sacred grounds, every fighter went through four intense years of training. One of the most unique beliefs of the academy was that as long as one had an aura, he could attend the Academy. Status meant nothing in the training grounds.

Each year represented a stage of learning. For the first year, a student, or rather an Ash, would learn the beginning stances, which taught the basics of swordsmanship. In the second year, they were called Ashens, and the students would learn about strategies, battle formations, and how to be a soldier in the king’s army. Asheni were third years that would finally be able to learn and practice the four main fighting stances: Sturdy, Droplet, Cloud, and Flame. Each had their own specific technique and unique fighting style. Once mastering all four, the students in their fourth year, called Ashenites, would need to fight and either win a match against a former graduate or obtain a passable score in order to receive their sword and certificate to fight for the king.

Though Leira had never attended a single class from the Aleyne Academy, she had mastered the four stances with Ezair’s expertise, as he was a graduate from there.

As Ezair lunged towards Leira, taking the Flame Stance for himself, he couldn’t help but notice a tall, lone figure standing in the window of a second s********m staring down at them, watching them closely.