Post by Elysia Titaia-Delgado on Oct 10, 2017 19:02:58 GMT
The queen was in icon in the Imfala Kingdom. She made a point to be that way. Ever poised, ever elegant, and ever immaculate. Rarely was she caught dressed in anything less than the finest cloth- even her riding habits were a wealth of luxury. Today, however, she had abandoned the careful fashions of her station. Instead she was clad in simple leather and quilted linen, clothing that had clearly seen some time and wear. In truth, it was clothing she had not pulled from it's chest in far too long. Her hair was slicked into a simple braid, wrapped around her head to keep it out of the way. She wore no symbol of her station, only her wedding ring beneath well broken in leather gloves.
She entered the sparring grounds relatively unnoticed. There was plenty of traffic coming in and out of the area and there were enough women among the guard and army that one more did not make so much a difference. If they noticed her figure lacked the wiry athleticism of a soldier well, none of them mentioned it. She stood quietly for some time, simply watching the sparring already going on. Though she kept herself fit and trained regularly with a private tutor in the kinds of knife play a lady should know and be proficient in, it had been years since she'd picked up a sword. She had learned alongside her brothers and even her husband in her childhood and had enjoyed it. She had even been moderately proficient. Never had she lifted one in real battle. Only in the play fighting of adolescents. By the time the spars had begun to take a more serious bent, she had been exiled from them, busy learning to run a kingdom.
Now, she helped herself to one of the pot-metal blunt swords used for such practice and waited. Her eyes eventually alighted on another woman who arrived. She searched for the name, trying to recall where she recognized her from. Ah. She worked under the Commander, and Elysia had seen her around from time to time, though never in close proximity. Elysia learned what she knew of war on her father's knee but Justus did not ask for advice on strategy from her, not usually. Still, she had sat in on war councils time enough. Usually silent, always thinking. Her suggestions were typically whispered in her husband's ear in the quiet hours of the evening, to let him mull them over and present them as his own.
Now she approached the woman, moving with the easy confidence of someone who wears power as a cloak and commands as easily as breathing. "Niera, is it?" The question was quick, followed by a short, sharp smile. "Would you indulge me in a bit of sparring?"
She entered the sparring grounds relatively unnoticed. There was plenty of traffic coming in and out of the area and there were enough women among the guard and army that one more did not make so much a difference. If they noticed her figure lacked the wiry athleticism of a soldier well, none of them mentioned it. She stood quietly for some time, simply watching the sparring already going on. Though she kept herself fit and trained regularly with a private tutor in the kinds of knife play a lady should know and be proficient in, it had been years since she'd picked up a sword. She had learned alongside her brothers and even her husband in her childhood and had enjoyed it. She had even been moderately proficient. Never had she lifted one in real battle. Only in the play fighting of adolescents. By the time the spars had begun to take a more serious bent, she had been exiled from them, busy learning to run a kingdom.
Now, she helped herself to one of the pot-metal blunt swords used for such practice and waited. Her eyes eventually alighted on another woman who arrived. She searched for the name, trying to recall where she recognized her from. Ah. She worked under the Commander, and Elysia had seen her around from time to time, though never in close proximity. Elysia learned what she knew of war on her father's knee but Justus did not ask for advice on strategy from her, not usually. Still, she had sat in on war councils time enough. Usually silent, always thinking. Her suggestions were typically whispered in her husband's ear in the quiet hours of the evening, to let him mull them over and present them as his own.
Now she approached the woman, moving with the easy confidence of someone who wears power as a cloak and commands as easily as breathing. "Niera, is it?" The question was quick, followed by a short, sharp smile. "Would you indulge me in a bit of sparring?"
