"Argh!"
Rivelle jumped, twisting her torso and legs in the air to deliver a solid kick to the training dummy's chest. Breathing heavily, she looked at the dummy, somewhat satisfied that it looked slightly more tattered than when she had started an hour ago.
Why was her father being so difficult? She could've stayed and fought to protect their family. He could've taught her everything about running a noble household himself! Even mother could have.
She spun on her heel and delivered another kick to the dummy's side, her hair fanning out briefly before settling to stick on her face again. She thought for once that he was trusting her with something important. Her fists clenched, thinking of how far she had traveled to deliver that small envelope. Oh, how she had thought she was helping her family. Instead, she was delivering herself to a fate her father had crafted for her.
Rivelle's lips twitched and her cheeks flushed as the last line of the letter flashed in her memory.
"How dare he?" she muttered, glaring at the dummy as if it should provide an adequate answer. No doubt her father had chuckled to himself writing that one.
The last red light of the sun withdrew from her face as it set past the hills in the distance, burying away its warmth along with its light. The cold of the night began to settle around Rivelle, drying the sweat on her neck and brow. Beginning to shiver, she picked up her grey cloak from the ground and draped it over her shoulders.
She had the choice to learn or not to learn...the loss would be hers. Lord Gerwolf Thalanduin's sharp blue eyes had made clear for her what the consequences were. The loss would be hers...and her family's.
That was the moment when she knew he was of noble birth. It wasn't the confidence that enveloped him like another set of clothes, the fine make of his garments, or the fair speech that flowed from his lips. When she had looked at him, he knew just as well as she that this letter was more than a simple request. The intricacies of noble relations didn't allow for simple requests. And thus, her refusal was more than a simple decline of a favor.
"Your family has never before asked something like this of my family."
Instantly, she was no longer Rivelle. Her desire to rip the letter into unreadable pieces and toss it into the flames was no longer her own actions. She was young Lady Cadien. Her refusal was spit in the face of House Thalanduin. Destroying the letter was a tear in the friendship between the houses. And her return home would be a blemishing dagger in her father's reputation among the nobles and people.
She could see for herself in the letter that her father had shown great humility, choosing his words with care. Lord Cadien never made requests and he most certainly never pleaded. He was clever, and he had made it such that she couldn't refuse.
"So be it," she declared to the dummy, turning her back on it.
