Guard Captain training the Duchess' daughter

It was early in the day and the beginning of the daily goings ons. Despite the sheer size of the estate, the people that live within it were numerous enough to be active in all parts of the manor at once. The slaves were the next to wake after the guards, followed by the local residents, both guests and residents. In less than an hour, the courtyard was buzzing with activity as the vast majority of his masters began their day. More guards came pouring forth from the the southern entrance that led to their quarters. These were mostly those who had different duties to the morning posts and were either mostly passing through or passing the time until their rotational shift began. Those in the latter linger in the courtyard Weevil was in, chatting away with little to no care in the world.

This was the time when the true horror for a **** began, something that he was accustomed to when he first arrived. Several of the **** men were already being kicked around and shouted at, the commotions too far yet for Weevil to hear, neither did he pay any more attention than he should. One of the slaves who was right in front of him was shoved aside violently by an angry officer, sending him reeling into the wall. He heard her aggressive tone send shivers down his spine.

"Out of my way, meat!"

It was an instinctive reaction to obey. Weevil and one other **** up ahead immediately stopped their work to press their backs against whatever surface was closest, making themselves as small as possible for the powerful armored woman to breeze through. Each of them hung their head low, not meeting any eye contact what so ever. No one moved to help the one still on the ground, who had huddled next to a large flower pot. Weevil could see the feet of several other guards pass by. They were chatting with each other. He made no attempt to listen in nor speak, least he too would be put to the ground. When the guards had passed, it was back to work for them. Throwing a passing glance at his fellow fallen ****, he had picked himself and the dirty cloth he had in his hands up from the ground to continue wiping down the pot. There was a smear of dampness on his shirt, indicating that one of the guards had spat on him as she passed. There was no other trace of emotion on his face, much liken to his own.

After some time of keeping clear of their masters, the slaves were given a break for water and their breakfast, which consisted of a cold loaf of hard bread. Weevil had sat himself down at the base of a pillar with two others. No one spoke while they ate, but it was during this time that everyone would have a small amount of respite to observe the courtyard. The late morning day was passing and it was that time of day when they appeared.

They arrived with no manner of fanfare in their wake save for the salute of the guards on duty as they passed along. A pair of women entered from the northern entrance which led to the manor proper. Both were recognizable within the first week of Weevil's arrival here 2 years ago. The first was the Captain of the Guard, who went by the name of Rhona Conway. The other was the Duchess' first and only born, Anwen Von Galand. The raven haired pair were dressed down for comfort. Rhona sported the guardswoman's sleeveless black tunic, breeches and long boots, armored with a single round pauldron on her left shoulder and vambraces on both forearms, with the distinctive purple officer's sash around her waist. Anwen donned something slightly more valuable, which consisted of a white sleeveless cotton shirt, an embossed leather half jacket, tan brown breeches and leather boots. It was easy to see the disparity in their age. Anwen had only turned 18 last month and Rhona was easily twice that amount, and far more experienced in battle than the former. For various reasons, Weevil made no further observations, least he would earn the ire of those who might catch him staring at a scion of noble blood. The last one who did lost an eye to the **** that came afterwards.

Nonetheless, the slaves knew to stay out of the courtyard proper while the two of them were there, as it was that time of day for their twice weekly training session to begin. No one but the guards would watch as Rhona took Anwen across every combat drill she had trained her to do. Whatever little detail he knew was what he would overhear from any guardswoman nearby who passed judgement and idle comments.

"Looks like the little lady has grown up, hasn't she? Still thinking that she can handle a sword like some heroine in some folklore."

"Let her be. Can't you see she is trying so hard to be like the Captain?"

"Trying, and failing. Look at that dismal display of footwork on those little legs! Even after all those years! It's an utter complete disgrace..."

"Aye, but don't let the sergeants catch you yapping your gob, least you would be losing your tongue. The Duchess wants her ready to take over at any time, is all. Even if she can't handle a blade, the pup's smart as a whip. She's better off a stateswoman than a knight."

"If she could only stop dreaming, that is. If she did, she could at least make the runner ups for next month's tournaments. I heard that competition is tough this summer. Lady Marsby of the Willow Downs. Eira Longarrow of Devil's Keep."

"Don't forget the Viper of the Valley!"

"Really? The Viper will be in the attending? The elf from the Uzals? That Viper?"

"Indeed. Our poor little pup won't last a single round against that savage of a knife ear..."