"My lord, the young lady is fine. The impact regurgitated most of what she's eaten but nothing too damaging besides the bruise,"

The Cernat's physician was notifying the Count of Evanthe's injuries, but he was barely listening. He was pacing around the room, his facial expression knotted and his nostrils flaring.

He was furious.

Fortunately, the physician was oblivious to his master's mood and took it as a sign of worry. He dabbed the last bit of ointment on Evanthe's forehead before wrapping the area with a thin gauze. Evanthe softly winced but otherwise said nothing. She could feel her father's anger already bursting through the seams. 

"Her forehead has already stopped bleeding, but it'll get better if she doesn't move around as much," 

"Yes, Father, I'm alright," Evanthe timidly whispered, her head half-submerged beneath her bed covers, the gauze the only thing visible under the sheets.

The Count ignored Evanthe completely, but spoke directly to the physician. 

"Then you may leave the room," Eamon quietly ordered.

The physician bowed briefly before closing the door, leaving the two of them alone. Count Eamon turned to his daughter, still huddled beneath the covers.

"What in gods names were you thinking?! Sparring with Eugen? Do you have any idea how badly you could get hurt?" He exploded. 

"W-we were just playing around. I just wanted Eugen to show me some moves," Evanthe came out from her hiding and whimpered, her eyes not meeting her father's. 

He was livid.

"He is a Cernat in training! While Eugen may be your brother, he isn't someone you can easily spar with. You're lucky you only got away with a bruise,"

Count Eamon glared at Evanthe.

"I was just trying to learn, I didn't mean anything by it," Evanthe countered softly, disappointed by what her father had said. 

"You can't learn. It's not meant for you. And it's dangerous-- it could have been worse," Count Eamon shook his head, baffled by his daughter's response.

"But what if I really want to learn? What if I want to be a Cernat in training too? It's dangerous for Eugen and Eomer too, but I don't see you getting angry about it!" Evanthe suddenly got heated and burst out.

That was unfair. She needed to protect herself as well. She couldn't wait for her brothers or for her father to help her. Look how that ended up when she thought the Cernat House was a powerful and mighty family. Everyone was either murdered or killed. And she died by her own hand. She wasn't going to wait for anyone to save her. She needed to save herself.

Count Cernat was speechless for a moment. None of them spoke and the tension in the air became stifling. The silence was so deafening that she wished her father would just continue to yell at her. And then for some odd reason, her father laughed.

He continued laughing for a good whole minute, but his expression was terrifying. 

"Now, listen here," Eamon said quietly.

"You're a lady. I expect nothing from you except, as a Cernat, have the duty to uphold its name. That means educating yourself until you're fit to run the house. That means establishing yourself as a proper lady until the time you marry. And that means not getting yourself into silly accidents like this one. Eugen and Eomer are born for this. Their duty is to fight for our house. Stop likening yourself to them, your path is different," He kept his voice steady and levelled but Evanthe could see the war of emotions across his face. 

"But Father, I can fight for Cernat too. Even though I'm a lady, I can do it. There are women who served houses as soldiers," Evanthe tried.

Count Cernat shook his head.

"We are a founding family. We follow tradition. And you are not just some girl. You are a lady of Cernat-- you have standing. I will not allow my daughter to fight for the house," 

"But Father---"

"I will hear none of this again. You are forbidden from entering the courtyard from now on. You are not to go anywhere near the barracks. You are to strictly follow the schedule I have set for you and return to your room once lessons are over. You are to reflect on your actions and are not to spar with any of your brothers again. Have I made myself clear?" 

"But that's unfair!" 

"And I will make it worse if you continue to behave like this," Count Cernat snapped. 

Evanthe knew she had no say in this.

She didn't care if her father restricted her free time. She wouldn't even care if he locked her up in her room for a year. But to stop her entirely from accessing the training grounds would mean her fighting for Cernat was never an option. He was never going to say yes. Seeing Evanthe retreated under the covers and stayed quiet, Eamon walked out of the room and slammed the doors. 

Evanthe bit her lip to keep herself from screaming. 

I'm bloody doing this for all of us, she wanted to yell.

She wanted to so badly reveal that she's not some dumb 5-year-old but someone who went back into her younger body. She was on the verge of telling her father the nightmare she had single-handedly witnessed where everyone in the Cernat family was killed. She wanted to tell him that the whole reason she started taking lessons seriously-- why she stopped playing around; why she suddenly got smarter was because she wasn't technically a child. And she so desperately wanted to explain; to stop the tragedy that could happen in the future. 

But she stopped herself. 

Evanthe punched her fist into the pillows, tears streaming down her face. She couldn't possibly do that. Would her father even believe her? And even if he did, what were her options after? Was her father going to willingly allow her entry into the courtyard after her confession? Probably not. And there was no telling what he was going to do with that piece of knowledge.

She saw no benefits. 

Evanthe cursed herself for being so stupid. She shouldn't have asked to spar with Eugen. She thought if she could get the attention of the Cernat guards, they might be willing to teach her just like Tutor Wiktor. She was a fool to believe that. They were all strictly controlled and regulated personally by the Count himself. They would never go out of their way to teach a child combat just because one had 'potential' or had shown interest.

They were trained militiamen.

And they followed orders. 

Evanthe curled into a ball and thought to herself. If her father wouldn't allow her to learn the military arts, then she would find a way. While she was aware of the consequences if she disobeys the Count, she had no other choice. Evanthe rationalised she was the only one who knew what was going to happen, and in the eyes of the Arodian people, a noble with high standing and military might was someone people would look up to. It was someone they would be willing to listen and follow. 

She had to be someone. 

She needed people. 

She needed help.

Evanthe strengthened her resolve once again, the last time she did was after her nightmare. The night where she vowed revenge on the people who wronged Cernat. But now she realised how long the road would be-- it wasn't as simple as killing people off. Even the basics were hard for her to reach; she couldn't even learn to fight for gods' sake. 

Evanthe pushed her anger away and directed it at her quest to become strong.

This was a challenge but she would find a way.

Evanthe gritted her teeth.

She had to.