"Excellent, that is absolutely beautiful, Lady Violet!" Sister Tyra praised with delight to the sound of the harp. Violet was gifted in the art of music. No matter what instrument she chose to play, the sound would always match her beauty. Violet was a girl with hair like fire, eyes as green and mesmerizing as emeralds and skin as fair as pure winter snow.
Yes, Violet was very talented, but so was her sister…when she showed an interest. Ameira was Violet's twin and the first born child of Lord and Lady Shaer. Although Ameira shared the same stunning green eyes and pretty smile, she differed from Violet in many ways. Firstly, her hair was blood-red, just like her father's. It was said that the blood of the striped sabre-cat ran through her veins and that blood-red hair was a sign of a true warrior. It was a display of pride for House Shaer. Secondly, Ameira didn't share the same winter kissed skin as her sister. She was of a more rosy complexion, as if there was a fire burning deep within. The biggest difference was that Ameira wasn't as gentle or graceful as her sister. Violet played her songs and took her lessons like a good little lady. While Ameira spent her lesson time staring out of the window imagining adventures beyond the walls of Scarlet Hall. The only lesson she would pay attention to was Sage Wilbert's historic teachings. Her favourite subject being the warriors of the past and the Kings of mighty battles throughout the history of Noveterra. She was fascinated by everything that she learned, knowing that she was from the same blood of those great warriors.
"Ameira! Pay attention!" Sister Tyra barked, pulling the young girl out from yet another daydream by slamming her thin wooden stick on the table. "Your sister worked very hard on this piece. The least you could do is pay attention!"
Sister Tyra was from Greystone, a monastery high up in the misted mountains many miles away. It was said that the conditions there were cold and harsh, which would explain Sister Tyra's personality. It would also explain why she looked so aged. Their mother once said that Sister Tyra was in her forties, but her life in Greystone must have aged her by another twenty years. Her face was wrinkled and her hair was a silver-grey colour. The way she dressed only added to how old she already looked. They had never seen her wear any clothing of colour. Only dark grey robes that were too tight for her plump body. I suppose I'd be a miserable cow too if I looked like that and spent most of my life up in those mountains with nothing to do but eat snow, recite prayers and read old books, Ameira thought to herself.
"That's quite alright," Violet insisted with a gentle smile. "I understand it's not her taste."
Sister Tyra scoffed. "Her taste matters not. A lady should be mindfully present at all times. It is downright rude to have her head in the clouds during such a lovely performance."
Ameira had to refrain from rolling her eyes. Instead, she nodded and smiled politely. "You're right," she said, "I do apologise that my mind was elsewhere."
"Well…at least you haven't completely forgotten your manners. Off with you now. Your mother is expecting you for afternoon tea."
"Yes, Sister Tyra" both girls spoke as they stood up, bowing their heads before walking out of the music room.
The girls laughed quietly as they walked down the hall, they always found it amusing when Sister Tyra irritated over the smallest things. It always seemed to be Ameira that brought out that side of her. "Father was right about her," she said, "that woman acts like she has a stick up her backside."
"Ameira!" Violet giggled, "You mustn't say such things!"
"It's the truth. How am I supposed to learn anything from an old witch like her?"
"You don't need to learn anything. It seems to all come naturally to you." There was a compliment in her words, but Ameira could hear the slight resentment in her voice.
"I may pick things up a little faster than you. But I could never play music the way you do."
"Oh, right!" Violet scoffed.
"I'm being honest," Ameira reassured her as he linked arms with her. "Your music is unique to you. I could never sound anything like the way you do. It's the same with your singing."
"I can't sing in front of people…" Violet's voice lowered nervously.
"You should. You have an amazing voice. Perhaps you could sing a song for father when he returns from the capital."
"Oh no, I couldn't. You've always been better with public performances."
"Public? It's only father. I'm certain he will adore it."
"Perhaps…if you sing with me."
Ameira pretended to ponder for a moment before giving her sister a smile. "Alright, if you insist!"
"Thank you. I always feel better when you're by my side."
Violet's grip on her arm tightened slightly. Although they were different, the two of them could never stand to be apart for very long. They did almost everything together. Of course, they knew it wasn't always going to be this way. As with all highborn ladies, they will be married to respected lords and live separate lives. It was a life that Violet thought about often with excitement. But Ameira thought of it with fear and disdain. The girls were nearly fourteen, which meant that their parents were already looking for worthy suitors for them both. There were countless nights in which Ameira had fallen asleep listening to her sister talk for hours about being wed to a handsome lord or courageous knight. Whenever she spoke of her dream husband, she always seemed to describe Prince Leo. It was understandable. Leo was a strong, skilled fighter, yet gentle and light hearted. He was handsome too, of course. With thick brown locks and eyes of the blue sky, he was every girl's dream. Also, just like Violet, he was a second born twin. Prince Daniel was the first born. He had the same dashing good looks as Leo, of course. But his hair was curled and his body wasn't as muscular since he would rather spend his time with a book in his hands than a sword. The girls had met the twin princes a few times before. Their father had been friends with King Leon since before the great war, before the king earned his crown. Which was why Ameira had the horrible feeling that the two of them had arranged a marriage between herself and Prince Daniel. She had nothing against him, she even considered him a friend. But she could never imagine herself to be his wife, or the future Queen of Noveterra.
As they walked through the halls, they were found by Ser Castian, Scarlet Hall's most loyal knight and weapons master. His leather armour was red with black painted stripes to resemble the striped sabre-cat of the House Shaer sigil. His hair was short and black, with a few grey hairs beginning to show. He smiled at the girls as he approached them.
"There you are, girls!" he said with a booming voice, "Your mother is waiting for you out in the garden. I've come to escort you."
"Thank you, Ser Castian," Violet replied.
"Yes, how could we make it all the way to the garden without you to guide us?" Ameira spoke sarcastically. She didn't mean anything by it, she quite enjoyed the knight's company. Ever since she was little, she enjoyed the stories of all his battles and the tournaments he had participated in throughout the years. But having a constant shadow everywhere they went was something she could live without. Usually, father would take Ser Castian with him on his ventures. However, this time he had chosen to leave him behind. It was odd seeing one without the other.
"Don't give me that attitude, little lady, I'm only following your mothers orders. She has something very important to speak with you about."
"Something important," Violet repeated, "oh, perhaps she's received word from father."
"Not for me to say, my lady. But come along now, it's rude to keep your mother waiting." As they walked together, Ser Castian leaned closer to Ameira and spoke in a hushed voice. "Have you been practising as we discussed, my lady?"
She couldn't help the smile that crept across her face. Ameira became excited whenever she thought about her lessons with the knight. Ever since she was a little girl, she wanted to learn how to wield a sword. Fortunately, her father didn't take much convincing to allow Ser Castian to let her learn. Highborn ladies typically didn't take interest in such things. Most would never pick up a sword in their lives. But Ameira felt a rush every time she held one in her hand. While her sister played the harp and got fitted for elegant gowns, Ameira was sparring and getting fitted with her own set of leather armour. "Of course. I don't want to lose my touch," she said.
"I'll be down in the courtyard most of the day. I'm training some new guardsmen. When you can spare some time, come and see me. I have a surprise for you."
"Oh?" her eyebrows raised with curiosity, "what is it?"
"My lady, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you right now, would it?"
"I know that! Just give me a clue."
"Nope, you're not getting me that easily. You just have to wait until later. A lady must have some patience."
"Oh! Am I helping you train the guardsmen? I bet I can beat every single one of them!"
"None of them would ever raise their weapons against their lady. You know that."
"I'm not a fragile little doll. I can handle a bit of good sparring."
"I'm aware of that, my lady. But that still doesn't change the fact that they would be too afraid of what your father would do if they harmed you in any way."
"He allowed me to learn how to fight…"
"That doesn't stop young guardsmen in training from being cautious of you, Ameira. They are sworn to protect you, you can't expect them to lunge a sword at you so easily."
"Alright, alright…I understand."
Violet had been listening quietly and finally spoke up. "I don't see the fascination of it all. Swinging swords around in all weather, splashing around in the mud, hurting each other over and over again…oh and those awful tournaments, they are just barbaric!"
Ameira remembered the one and only time their father had taken them to a tournament. They were eight years old at the time and had been invited by the king to attend. It was the one year their father didn't enter the tournament himself. He didn't want them to see him fighting, although Ameira would have loved to see him in action. She had heard the stories of the battles he had won. She had even seen him practising in the courtyard on many occasions, but that wasn't the same as if he were competing in a tournament. However, Ameira watched the whole thing in awe. The talent and skill those lords and knights displayed were like nothing she had ever seen before. Not even the books Violet buried herself in could compare to what was right in front of them at that time. But her excitement was cut short when two rival lords got carried away. Lord Byron of Darkmarsh and Lord Valkrimm of Greenwater had been at each other's throats the entirety of the tournament. They were competing one on one, neither of them were going to give the other the satisfaction of winning. The fight seemed to go on for hours, both lords were exhausted but refused to admit defeat. They would have killed each other right then and there if King Leon hadn't had put a stop to it and declared a tie. Under his reign, it was a new rule that there would be no deaths at any tournament. Ameira remembered her father saying that it was a ridiculous rule and that it took a lot of the fun out of it. But she would never forget what happened after that. After the tie had been declared, Lord Byron threw his sword on the ground and turned away. Lord Valkrimm, furious at the king's rule, suddenly lunged at his rival. His sword cut straight through him as if he was a freshly baked pie. The screams that came from Violet were like nothing she had ever heard before. She could never stand the sight of blood, and she would cry when she saw the hounds fighting over their food, but that day would haunt her forever. The sound of those screams would stay with Ameira forever. She hoped she would never hear her sister scream like that ever again.
Ser Castian put a hand on Violet's shoulder, speaking with a gentle tone. "I pray to any God that will listen that you never have to witness a true battle, my lady. But we must train for it nonetheless."
"...I know violence is inevitable, Ser Castian…" the young lady sighed, "I just don't want my sister to be a part of it."