I Will Be the Greatest Knight-Chapter 427: Unavoidable

How much could she avoid the issue?

The best part about knighthood was that things seldom focused purely on emotion. If something or someone bothered you, focusing on duties was enough penance to solve practically any problem. If it was someone within the knighthood bothering you, usually a sword spar was enough to smooth everything over. Otherwise, you would eventually find forgiveness on the battlefield or in the face of monsters that made you realize whatever you were upset about paled in comparison to how much each knight was needed in the face of danger. Abilities directly equaled value.

Irene lasted for two days before something else needed to be said.

Each morning up to that point, she would wake early and go work on unburying the practice yard. Snow had settled in, and the snowdrifts made it so she had to leave the front of the house to unbury the back.

It was surprising to her that her brother or father wasn’t using the practice yard. She couldn’t picture a world where her brother wasn’t interested in swordsmanship or her father didn’t push it onto his son whenever he acted up.

It was yet another example of things that weren’t adding up to the young woman now that she was back home and observing.

All hope wasn’t lost when Arne appeared on the practice yard after she had cleared everything.

"You’re going to enjoy the fruits of my labor just like that?" Irene questioned her brother.

"I only just got home," he justified. "No one asked you to clean the practice yard. We can fight just as well on top of the snow."

"Clearing the snow is the warm-up," Irene said. "Now grab a practice sword if you aren’t worried. A child like you wouldn’t be phased by letting their elders warm up before a spar."

"You keep talking like an old man," Arne realized, laughing at his sister. "You need to stop hanging around with such old men."

"I don’t simply hang out with them," she responded. "Half the knighthood is made up of these old men you’re referring to."

Regardless, Arne retrieved a practice sword and was eager to face his sister.

She found quite easily that, while Arne had grown what felt like a foot since she saw him last, he was slower than she now.

"Body growing too fast, your mind hasn’t figured out how to control it yet," Irene observed as she tripped her brother and put all her weight into pushing him over.

"Has knighthood taught you how to be a cheap fighter?" Arne asked, out of breath as he saved himself from falling. "You might have speed and skill but you have all these cheap moves too."

Irene was a bit shocked that he had gotten better at retorting when she was giving him trouble. Perhaps with his growing, he actually had been studying as well.

"Are they cheap moves or is it my years of knighthood teaching me how to use my entire body during a match?" she wondered. "Something you couldn’t begin to understand."

"You’re right," he retorted. "I wasn’t allowed to run off and join a knighthood since you took that from me. One of us is having to stay here and learn the ropes of Father’s lands."

That one caught her more off guard as he barreled over and served her a downward slash that broke through her block. Her grip on the wooden sword crumbled, and it fell towards her. The only thing she could do was move out of the way or she was going to get hurt.

"We have different paths," Irene quietly justified. "I have to carve my own path because I was never meant to be the heir, and I’m sure that everyone in the village would agree. I am better off being in the knighthood."

Arne seemed upset about something he wasn’t saying.

However, before she could ask further, there was a disturbance towards the nearest entrance and her father made his presence known.

"Best go inside and eat breakfast," he explained to his children, not giving away if he had heard any of their conversation.

Irene was last in the yard, so she put away practice swords and made sure the shed was locked tightly so that they wouldn’t get too weathered during such a cold winter. She knew it was important to keep wooden practice swords from getting wet and then too dry or they could get brittle and crack—although it wasn’t as if anyone was practicing there anymore, it seemed like.

She couldn’t complain too much, because she was met with the wonderful scent of dried berries mixed with porridge. There was even a bit of honey to put in her porridge, and she ate her fill rather quickly.

Thinking she was finished and could go elsewhere, Irene was shocked when her mother stopped her.

"I would like to talk to you about something in the sitting room."

Irene instantly looked put off by this, but she still followed her mother.

It wasn’t all bad, she realized, as she walked down the hallway and entered a room warmer than everywhere else in the house. While the house was well-built with good insulation, there was nothing that could completely stave away the cold unless you lit a fire. However, to keep a house that size warm everywhere would take more fireplaces and far more wood. It was simply too much of a big ask and too wasteful.

The young woman sat down on one of the comfortable couches and waited for her mother to begin. She was filled with dread, wondering if she had done something else to disobey without realizing it.

Pulling her from her thoughts, Rochelle began.

"I should apologize for what transpired the night of the Winter Solstice banquet," Rochelle admitted. "I’m sorry for behaving that way. There is no excuse for treating you like that because I was overly worried. It’s unbecoming of a lady to have outbursts."

Irene was feeling a bit stubborn at that.

"Then, I’m sorry for almost ruining the dress you gave me," Irene apologized in response. "I figured that since most everyone else had left the banquet, it was alright for me to take my leave as well."

Rochelle, for the first time in Irene’s life, shot her daughter a helpless look for a few moments before she covered it up with her usual, proper self.

"A dress doesn’t matter in the long run, but your opinion of me does," Rochelle explained. "How you feel also matters."

"What am I feeling..." Irene trailed off. "I mostly just want to know what’s going on around here, where you and father are on edge most of the time."

Rochelle deflected immediately.

"There’s nothing wrong," she insisted. "We’re just getting older and too used to one another, I suppose. We will have to behave better."

"All I want is for you and Dad to be kind to one another," Irene admitted. "It probably guts him whenever you’re mad."

Rochelle offered a sad smile at that. She blinked her green eyes quickly as she turned away.

"He certainly does," she uttered. "No one cares about my opinion more than your father."

While the conversation at least allowed Irene to feel slightly more settled, she still felt there was more that was being left unsaid.

With a sigh, she decided to slow down. She had a couple of months left in this place. She might as well try to enjoy herself.