Chapter 4: Chapter 3: Preparing for service.

When Irene said she'd train me, considering that I had to start reporting to the palace in two weeks, I did expect something tough to make up for the lack of free time I'd have during my duties.

Even then, what is this? How do you want me to lift up twenty kilos on my back as a five year old? Is this a strongman competition? You want me to do push ups with that on?

"What's with you being a coward? You know very well that with me now, it's only a matter of time until you break records."

"You're being rude, Omen. I never said I wouldn't do it."

"Tut tut, excuses. No wonder you're so quiet, if people got a look into those monologues of yours..."

He had a point. That still doesn't mean I won't comment on the difficulty spike. Dumbass Omen.

"You know I can hear you, right?"

Hmm, I don't think I've bitched about it enough, dumbass Omen interrupted me after all. I wonder if he'll smell less like blood rust if I cover him in garlic oil?

"...Petty."

Garlic oil. Gaaaaaarlic oil.

"..."

I guess someone learned how to stay quiet sometimes. That's a good skill to have, very practical.

Apart from the constant banter between me and my new, unreliable, lifelong buddy, I officially started my formal training.

I spent the whole day training in ways I cannot describe properly. Irene took everything into account, even when others would die from over exertion, I would only benefit.

My new physique, courtesy of my favourite parasite, was truly a good thing.

"...Parasite your grandma."

No matter how much I twisted my muscles and tried obnoxious excercise that would definitely cripple a normal five year old, Omen's little gift would make it so I simply healed faster.

The more this little body of mine suffered under Irene's training, the more it resulted in a well tempered body.

"Deneve, this training, you must never recommend to someone that hasn't gone through Lucerne's Baptism." Irene continued, as she made me stretch to unnatural levels.

"I will do what I can until you reach twelve. At that point, it will be your responsibility to continue expanding your limits."

It was unnecessary for her to explain this to me, but old Deneve certainly would have to. She wouldn't have known the limits of a normal person.

The training hurt, clearly. If it wasn't necessary for me, I certainly wouldn't put the effort in. But I know very well that I have no going back, that this is my body now.

Argos on the back, in spite of the grimace in his face, would still accompany us throughout the training as Arya brought refreshments every now and then.

Irene skipped any sort of information about Noble Houses and people in power, claiming that us Lucerne had no business caring about "arrogant nobles and pissant idiots".

House Lucerne, in spite of not being born dumb, had this inexplicable policy of not paying attention to delicate matters and politics. Our duty was war, and steel, and our education made sure to focus on this.

Only ever on the Emperor's faction, concentrating on our duties. Irene knew this wasn't smart, however, considering the rude ideas the current emperor has against us. Even though she did not teach me politics, she did teach me the art of evading messes.

To start politics now was pointless, as our house has nothing to offer for an alliance. With Argos's help, they taught me logistics, management, decision making. These lessons would only end once I turned 12.

Those two weeks of relative peace passed through quickly, giving way to my entrance into the Palace. Lessons would continue on my free time.

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When the day came, Argos, this gruff looking, soft hearted man hurried over in his crutches (for the first time using them before dinner) to stuff a book on management in the pocket of my uniform, and a handful of cookies on my jacket. When he was done with this he looked me over and patted away the creases of my uniform.

I had asked Irene to cut my hair chin length a few days ago, and so I slicked it back. The dark red Adustian knight uniform jacket contrasted nicely with the black boots and pants. Underneath the red jacket lay a thin padded white gambeson, local speciality of the house.

In spite of the thinness, it offered a surprisingly decent protection. The years of service to the crown wizened the Lucerne enough to make something allowed by palace rules that would still protect them from harm on their duty.

The small Lucerne crest, a swallow flying over a setting sun, was embroidered nicely on my gambeson, covered only by the jacket and its three blazing rings symbol of the Imperial Watch, or in other words, the symbol of Imperial bodyguards and professional well trained dogs.

"Aren't you insulting them a bit much when you're part of them as well?"

Indeed, I am also an Imperial dog. Except I'll be serving the forgotten Second Princess, which in turn means I'm a mutt.

"So I'm a parasite and you're a mutt?"

Yes. Yes, indeed. And you can't say it's worse for you than it is for me, because I'm the one that will be dealing with stuck up nobles and their stupid sons.

Having finished this friendly banter, which had started to become commonplace, I saw Irene walking over  dressed somewhat formally with her cane, clutching something on her other hand.

"Deneve, here." She walked over to me, gently pushing Argos to stop fussing over my uniform. "This is yours now."

With her towering height, she bent over searching for my double belt. When she did, she tied what I suppose was meant to be a necklace with the Lucerne crest around it, making a crisp metal sound.

She patted my shoulder somewhat strongly, and signaled Argos to tell her if she tied it properly. He hummed affirmatively in response.

When he tried getting close again to continue his nervous search for imperfections in my attire, Irene hit his calf with the cane, strongly.

We collectively decided to ignore his sharp inhaling of air, as he changed one of his crutches to the other side, massaging his leg.

"She's not going to war just yet, dear." Mother sighed, standing straight, "Don't fuss too much, daughter, and if one of those kids decides to bother you too much..."

I answered immediately, "I break their legs."

"Good answer."

"Good grief, Riveras would've loved hearing her descendants are this way."

Deciding not to doubt my ancestor too much, I continued. "And if it's an Imperial descendant, just beat them up."

"Not too much," continued Irene, "else you might get in trouble."

"If it's the others, just do what we taught you." Argos added.

More like choose what to do. Honestly, how did you manage to teach me so many ways to cripple someone 'on accident'?

"I'm happy to know that Riveras's teachings have been passed on properly."

I know you're old, but stop it with the melancholy. To the side, Arya nodded strongly in agreement at the couple's words in spite of her gentle demeanor. Apparently serving the Lucernes is a good method to corrupt gentle souls.

Gentle my ass, of course. Anyone that's managed to serve this House this long cannot have that weak a spirit. Arya alone has certainly served and attended many of the Baptisms.

Turning around after my goodbyes, I headed to the horse I was prepared. Coco, who used to be my mother's mare, would be accompanying me until I got better accustomed to a different horse. Onwards to the town, where I would be guided to the Palace.

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