Chapter 19.A different kind of fear

The following morning, I woke with considerably less soreness than I had expected. My arms still complained whenever I moved them, but at least I could lift them without feeling as though I had spent the night fighting an army.

I sat on the edge of the bed and stretched carefully, waiting for the ache in my shoulders to settle before finally getting to my feet.

"Better."

The maid helping me dress glanced at me through the mirror.

"Are you talking to yourself again, my lady?"

I looked at her reflection.

"Maybe."

She smiled as she adjusted the sleeve of my dress.

"You seem happier this morning."

"I survived another day."

"That's a low standard."

"It is these days."

She laughed softly, and I couldn't help smiling.

There was something comforting about having an ordinary conversation after everything I had been dealing with. For a few minutes, I wasn't thinking about the Order, my missing memories, or the strange circumstances surrounding my childhood accident. I was simply a woman complaining about sore muscles while getting dressed.

I wanted more mornings like this, although I knew better than to expect them.

I finished dressing and fastened my gloves around my wrists. I had chosen another simple training outfit, even though I was beginning to wonder whether agreeing to another lesson had been a terrible decision.

Yesterday had been difficult enough, and somehow I suspected today would be worse.

Still, I wasn't going to back out.

When I left my room, I found Adrian waiting at the end of the corridor. He looked at me, then at the gloves in my hands, and a small smile appeared on his face.

"You came prepared."

"I made a commitment."

"Yesterday you said your entire body hated me."

"It still does."

"Good morning to you too."

I walked toward him.

"Did you sleep?"

"A little."

"That's not enough."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You sound like my physician."

"Maybe your physician is right."

"I'm beginning to regret teaching you."

"You haven't taught me enough to regret it yet."

He laughed, and we started toward the training grounds.

The path through the gardens was quiet, with the morning air cool against my face and sunlight beginning to spill across the leaves. A few servants were already working among the flowers while guards moved along the outer walls, keeping watch over the palace grounds.

When we reached the old training grounds, Adrian handed me a wooden sword.

I took it confidently.

He looked at me for a moment.

"That's better."

"What?"

"Yesterday you held it like you were afraid it would bite you."

"It was unfamiliar."

"And today?"

"I've decided it can't be worse than yesterday."

He smiled.

"Good attitude."

I took my position while Adrian stood opposite me.

"Before we begin, remember what I taught you."

"Keep my balance."

"Yes."

"Watch my opponent."

"Yes."

"Don't hold my breath."

"Good."

"Don't cross my feet."

"Exactly."

I smiled.

"See? I listened."

"You did."

He raised his sword.

"Then show me."

We began.

The first few movements felt almost familiar. They weren't easy, but they no longer seemed completely foreign. I blocked his first strike and managed to keep my balance when he followed with another.

"Good."

I smiled.

"You're going to say that every time I do something correctly, aren't you?"

"If you keep doing things correctly."

"Then I'll make sure you have to say it often."

He attacked again.

I blocked, but when he moved faster, I reacted a second too late and felt the wooden sword tap my shoulder.

"Ouch."

"You're supposed to move."

"I was moving."

"Not quickly enough."

I rubbed my shoulder.

"You could at least pretend to be gentle."

"If someone attacks you, they won't pretend."

"I know."

He lowered his sword for a moment.

"Again."

We continued.

For the next hour, Adrian made me repeat the same movements until they became less deliberate. At first, I had to think about every instruction he had given me: keep my feet apart, watch his shoulders, don't rely on strength, and remember to breathe.

Eventually, some of those things began happening naturally.

I started noticing the shift in his weight before he moved and the slight change in his shoulders whenever he prepared to strike. I could tell when he was about to step forward, and I learned that moving to the side was sometimes more effective than trying to meet his strength directly.

The more I practiced, the more I understood why he had insisted on repetition. It wasn't simply about memorizing instructions; it was about teaching my body what to do when my mind didn't have time to think.

"You keep holding your breath," Adrian said.

"I do not."

"You just did."

I deliberately took a deep breath.

"Maybe I forgot."

"You can't forget to breathe."

"Apparently I can."

He smiled.

"Again."

I raised the sword.

This time, I paid attention to my breathing as he moved toward me. When the wooden blades struck, the impact traveled through my arms, but I managed to keep my grip and stay balanced.

I stepped backward.

"Better."

I smiled.

"Really?"

"Yes."

That small word made me feel strangely proud.

I tried again, then repeated the movement several more times. After another half hour, my arms were aching, but I was no longer as frustrated as I had been the previous day. There was a difference between knowing I was bad at something and knowing I was getting better at it.

Finally, Adrian changed his stance.

"Now we're going to do something different."

I immediately became suspicious.

"What?"

"You're going to attack me."

I stared at him.

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because defending yourself is only half of what you need to learn."

I looked at the wooden sword.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I'm better than you."

I gave him an offended look.

"That was unnecessary."

"It's true."

"I liked you better five minutes ago."

He smiled.

"Attack."

I raised my sword.

He waited.

I moved toward him, but he blocked easily. I tried again, changing the angle of my strike, and once more he stopped me without any real effort.

I stepped back.

"You're making me look terrible."

"I'm teaching you."

"It feels personal."

"It isn't."

I attacked again.

This time, I changed direction halfway through the movement. Adrian blocked my first strike, but when I shifted to the side, the wooden blade slipped past his defense and touched his shoulder.

We both stopped.

I stared at him while he looked at the place where my sword had touched him before turning his attention back to me.

"Better."

A smile spread across my face.

"I almost got you."

"You did."

"Really?"

"Your sword touched my shoulder."

I lowered the weapon slightly.

"I did it."

"You did."

The excitement that went through me was ridiculous considering how small the victory was, but I couldn't help it. It wasn't really about beating Adrian; it was about proving to myself that I could improve.

When I had first arrived in this world, I had felt as though I was trapped inside a story that had already been written. Every important event seemed to belong to someone else, and while other people appeared to understand what was happening, I was constantly trying to catch up.

Now I was learning something different.

Skills could be built. Confidence could be built. Strength could be built. Perhaps even a future could be built.

Adrian lowered his sword.

"That's enough."

I looked at him.

"Already?"

He gave me an amused look.

"You've been training for nearly two hours."

"I didn't notice."

"I did."

He handed me some water, and I drank deeply before sitting beneath the shade of an old tree beside the training grounds. Adrian sat nearby, resting his arms against his knees.

For several minutes, neither of us spoke.

I looked around the courtyard. The old stone walls were covered in climbing vines, and the wooden practice posts cast long shadows across the ground. It was easy to imagine Adrian as a child running around this place with a wooden sword in his hands.

"How long did it take you to become good?" I asked.

"Years."

"Years?"

"Yes."

I stared at him.

"Then why did you expect me to be good after two days?"

"I didn't."

"You definitely did."

He smiled.

"I expected you to listen."

"I am listening."

"Most of the time."

I nudged his shoulder with mine.

He looked at me, and for a moment neither of us said anything.

The silence felt strangely intimate, although nothing particularly romantic had happened. It was simply the ease between us that I had begun noticing more often.

I cleared my throat.

"Did you always enjoy training?"

"No."

"Really?"

"No."

"What changed?"

He looked toward the old weapons rack.

"Nothing."

I waited, but he didn't elaborate.

"You don't want to talk about it."

"It's not important."

I smiled faintly.

"That's another sentence I don't like."

"Which one?"

"It's not important."

He glanced at me.

"You say it whenever you don't want to explain something."

"Sometimes."

"Why?"

He was quiet for a moment before answering.

"Because not everything needs to be explained."

I thought about that.

Maybe he was right. I had spent so much time searching for answers that I sometimes forgot people were allowed to keep parts of themselves private.

Still, I had a feeling Adrian didn't avoid certain subjects because they were unimportant. Some things were probably difficult for him to talk about, and there was a difference between privacy and pain.

I didn't push.

Instead, I looked down at my hands.

"Do you remember the first time you saw me after my accident?"

His expression changed.

"Yes."

"What do you remember?"

He took a slow breath.

"You were eleven."

"I know."

"You had fallen from the west balcony."

"I know that too."

He looked at me.

"But you don't remember what happened afterward."

"No."

He was quiet for a moment.

"I remember your father carrying you."

Something moved through my chest.

"You were there?"

"Yes."

"You told me before."

"I know."

"What happened?"

Adrian looked away.

"You were unconscious."

I waited.

"When you woke up, you didn't recognize anyone."

My fingers tightened around the cup.

"Not even my father?"

"No."

"What about you?"

His eyes met mine.

"You were frightened when you saw me."

I swallowed.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

That answer hurt more than I expected.

"Did I say anything?"

"You kept asking where you were."

"What else?"

"You asked for your mother."

My chest tightened.

"I did?"

"Yes."

I looked away.

"Was she there?"

"No."

The answer was quiet, but it carried more weight than I expected. I already knew my mother was gone by then, yet hearing that I had asked for her while frightened made something ache inside me.

Adrian continued.

"You kept asking when she was coming."

I stared at the ground.

"What did you tell me?"

"I said she would come."

I looked at him.

"But she didn't."

"No."

There was something in his expression that made me wonder whether he had regretted making that promise.

"You were just a child," I said.

"So were you."

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Then I said quietly, "I'm sorry."

Adrian frowned.

"For what?"

"For what happened."

"You didn't choose it."

"I know."

"Then don't apologize."

I looked at him.

He seemed completely serious.

"I just wish I remembered."

"I know."

His voice softened.

"You don't have to force yourself to remember everything at once."

I looked down.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm betraying her by not remembering."

"You're not."

"How can you know that?"

"Because forgetting wasn't your choice."

I looked at him.

"You make everything sound simple."

"No."

He smiled sadly.

"I just don't want you blaming yourself for something you couldn't control."

I didn't answer.

There were no words I could think of that would make that feeling disappear, but hearing him say it helped.

We eventually stood and began walking back toward the palace.

My body was tired enough that every step reminded me of the training session, but I didn't regret it. There was something satisfying about the soreness now because it felt like evidence that I had done something for myself.

As we followed the stone path, I noticed that Adrian had slowed his pace.

At first, I thought he was tired. Then I realized he was walking slowly enough for me to keep up without having to hurry.

I smiled.

"You can walk normally."

"I am walking normally."

"No, you're not."

"How would you know?"

"Because you were walking faster before."

He glanced at me.

"You're observant."

"You taught me to pay attention."

"Then the lesson worked."

I laughed.

By the time we reached the gardens, the sun had risen higher, warming the stone path beneath our feet.

Neither of us spoke for a while. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, and I had started noticing that silence with Adrian didn't always need to be filled. Sometimes we could simply walk beside each other without needing to explain what was on our minds.

When we reached the main corridor, Adrian stopped.

"I have to attend another meeting."

"Of course."

"I'll see you later."

I nodded.

Then he looked at me again.

"Keep your pendant with you."

My fingers moved toward it automatically.

"Why?"

"Because it's yours."

There was nothing mysterious in the way he said it. No warning or hidden meaning accompanied the words. It sounded almost like he was reminding me that I had the right to keep something that belonged to me.

I nodded.

"All right."

He walked away.

I watched him disappear through the palace doors before heading toward the library.

The room was empty when I entered.

I walked toward the shelves containing Victoria's journals and pulled out the one I had been reading the previous evening. Instead of sitting at the main table, I moved toward the window where the afternoon light fell across the pages.

My mother's handwriting was becoming familiar enough that I could almost hear her voice when I read.

Some pages were about her investigations, while others were simply about life. One entry described a dinner she had attended with my father, another talked about a book she had recently finished, and a third complained about the weather.

I smiled as I read.

These were ordinary things, but they were precious to me.

I had spent so much time searching for the truth that I had forgotten there was more to a person's life than the secrets they kept.

I turned another page.

There was a note about me.

Seraphina keeps stealing my books and pretending she hasn't.

I laughed.

"That sounds like me."

I could almost picture her writing it.

I turned the page.

Another note followed.

She says she wants to read everything. I told her she should start with one book at a time. She said that was boring.

I smiled.

The feeling in my chest was warm and painful at the same time.

I wished I could remember her voice.

I wished I could remember the way she looked at me.

More than anything, I wished I could remember what it felt like to be her daughter.

Instead, I had these pages.

Maybe they were enough.

For now.

A shadow fell across the table.

I looked up.

Lord Cedric stood there.

The royal adviser.

I had seen him several times since arriving at the palace, but we had never spoken privately.

He smiled politely.

"Lady Seraphina."

"Lord Cedric."

"I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all."

His gaze moved toward the journal on the table.

"Lady Victoria's records?"

"Yes."

He nodded.

"She was a remarkable woman."

I studied him.

"You knew her?"

"Of course."

"What was she like?"

He smiled.

"Intelligent."

I waited.

"Stubborn."

I almost laughed.

"Everyone says that."

"Because it was true."

He walked toward the window.

"She asked difficult questions."

"Did people dislike her for that?"

"Some did."

"Did you?"

He looked at me.

"No."

There was something about the certainty of his answer that made me curious.

"You worked with her?"

"Occasionally."

"During the investigation?"

His expression became more careful.

"I was aware of the investigation."

"That's not the same thing."

"No."

He looked toward the garden.

"Your mother trusted very few people."

"Did she trust you?"

He paused.

"I believe she did."

I didn't know whether to believe him. Not because he had said anything suspicious, but because I was beginning to understand that trust in this palace was complicated. Everyone seemed to know something, and everyone seemed to have been connected to something, yet nobody appeared willing to tell the entire story.

Lord Cedric looked at me.

"You resemble her."

I smiled faintly.

"I've heard that before."

"Not only in appearance."

I waited.

"In the way you question things."

That made me laugh softly.

"Then perhaps I really am her daughter."

"Perhaps."

He walked toward the door.

"Your mother believed that truth should be uncovered carefully."

I looked at him.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that sometimes knowing something before you are ready can be more dangerous than not knowing it."

His words reminded me of the sentence I had found in Victoria's journal.

Sometimes protecting someone means allowing them to discover the truth when they are ready.

I wondered whether everyone around my mother had understood that. Perhaps they had; perhaps they had simply disagreed about what I was ready to know.

Lord Cedric gave me a small bow.

"Enjoy the rest of your afternoon."

"Thank you."

He left.

I stared at the closed door for a moment.

I didn't know whether his words had been advice or warning. Maybe they were simply the words of a man who had known my mother and believed he understood her.

I returned my attention to the journal.

This time, I didn't search for secrets.

I simply read.

By late afternoon, the library had become cooler. I closed the journal and stretched, feeling the familiar ache in my shoulders.

My eyes were tired, so I decided to walk through the gardens before dinner.

The gardens were beautiful at that hour. The sun was beginning to lower, casting a warm glow over the flowers and stone paths, while most of the servants had finished their work for the day.

I walked slowly, enjoying the quiet.

For once, I wasn't thinking about the Order, the pendant, or the story. I was simply enjoying the evening.

Then I heard someone call my name.

"Seraphina."

I turned.

Evelina was walking toward me with a small smile.

"You've been difficult to find."

"I was in the library."

"Of course you were."

We continued walking together.

"How was training?"

I sighed.

"Painful."

She laughed.

"But I'm improving."

"Really?"

"Adrian said so."

"Then you must be."

I smiled.

We walked in silence for a few moments before Evelina spoke again.

"You seem different."

"Everyone keeps telling me that."

"Maybe because it's true."

I looked at her.

"How?"

"You don't seem as afraid."

I thought about that.

"I still am."

"Of what?"

I looked toward the garden.

"Everything."

She waited.

"But I'm not letting the fear make all my decisions anymore."

Evelina smiled.

"That's a big change."

"I hope it's a good one."

"It is."

We reached the fountain and sat on its edge.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then I asked, "Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if none of this happened?"

She looked at me.

"Sometimes."

"What do you imagine?"

"A quiet life."

I laughed.

"Same."

"Maybe somewhere far from the palace."

"Definitely."

She smiled.

"What about you?"

I thought for a moment.

"In my other life, I had a completely different idea of what a good life looked like."

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Evelina looked at me.

I quickly continued.

"Before everything changed, I mean."

She nodded.

"What did you want?"

I smiled faintly.

"A normal life, I suppose."

"What does normal mean to you?"

I looked across the garden.

"Being able to choose where I go. Having people around me because they want to be there, not because they're assigned to protec