The Romantic Trials Of A Transmigrated Empress

Chapter 378: New Emmah, new Fox.

Roland was as drunk as a bard in a mead hall after seven rounds and one tragic ballad. When the servants

brought him into the bedroom, he was sloshed, staggering and singing to Jesting about beautiful his whitish hair

looked.

Jesting was mortified.

He and the servants could not hand over the crown prince soon enough to the crown princess and they could not

escape fast enough after their duty was finished.

Sigrid pinched her nose when he belched and a storm’s worth of booze breath cfrom his mouth. She

cleaned him with magic and changed his clothes. When she finally got into bed, he curled up to her like a cat

seeking warmth.

"Smells good." he muttered.

Sigrid sighed. "Sleep." she patted his back gently and put him to sleep. The tiresthree days were over, it

was tto rest again.

She decided to put off the plan to take on Emmah or any of the other mages that were in the empire, sniffing

around for the lucky halo. Closing her eyes, she slept off.

sok

For Emmah Fairfax, now known as Ciara Fox, there was no sleep that night. How could she, when training to

beca female knight under DAmelia was a life threatening experience. All wannabe knights were

entitled to only six hours of rest a day. The rest of the twas dedicated to training with little breaks to eat and

catch one’s breath.

The moon was a pale witness to Ciara Fox's determination. Where others were sleeping, she was facing off

against five well trained female mages on a field in Suncrest, near the edge of a forest.

She gripped her sword with sweat-slick fingers and gritted her teeth. Paying no mind to the crushing of her

bones, she readied herself for another attack. In her mind, she reminded herself of why she had to do this. It was

because she was a criminal in hiding, being hunted by different forces.

Rather than hide and live like a mouse, she wanted to forge her identity in glory, living with respect. Instead of

being afraid of others, they would be afraid of her. Like the old farmer that had sold her the identity of his dead

daughter that had passed in the western plague. He had been very afraid when she turned around and slit his

throat with a blade after the deal was done.

She had set his house on fire too, leaving no traces of what had transpired there.

"Again." barked Sir Skylar barked, her braided lavender hair glowing ethereally in the moonlight. She was one of

the women that took up the sword by DAmelia’s side and challenged the law against women being

knighted. She was stern and tolerated no nonsense of illusions. "We don’t have tfor you to learn how to

control your breath Fox. You parry too early, you back away easily like you are afraid to die and you breathe like

you're hoping for mercy."

Ciara nodded. She didn’t speak. When she cto Medoris, she chose silence as an armor. The less she talked,

the less people tried to talk to her and the more anonymous she remained.

The five knights sprung into action, coming at her one at a time, their blades like judgement. Each tshe saw

a flash of silver, her heart clenched as she pictured a sword bearing down on her neck after she was arrested for

murder.

Sir May kicked her. "Mind on the sword at all times Fox." she warned while bringing her sword down.

Ciara blocked it and rolled away. Her ribs were sore where she had been kicked but she did not show the pain on

her face. Just as she was standing, the hit of a sword hit her in the stomach and stole her breath.

"Dead." Sir May said coldly, stepping back.

Ciara slowly got to her feet, coughed and steadied herself.

The next challenger Sir Muni cat her, running faster than a tiger going after prey. She was fond of twirling

her sword like it was stitched to her wrist naturally. It was said that in battle, with every twirl, she took a life.

She disarmed Ciara in one move and pushed her sword to her neck like she was about to push it in.

"Too slow Fox." Sir Muni smirked.

Ciara grit her death. As Emmah, she had been suppressed by noble women at every turn in Eldoria when she

tried to stand out. As Ciara, in Medoris she was still being suppressed by these barbaric women. She hated them

all---so much.

She grit her teeth as Sir Lucy approached slowly, sword behind her back. Sir Lucy was as broad as a bear twice

as tall and equal in strength to it. With one hand, she could crush an opponent to death.

She did not even use her sword, she used her bare hand to attack Ciara. The swing very blunt and final. It sent

Ciara off her feet and she fell to the ground. Her arm, where she had been hit, was screaming. It was like all the

bones had been crushed.

"Dead." Sir Lucy declared flatly, turned and walked away.

Breathing heavily, Ciara bit back her tears and slowly staggered to her feet. Her hand was shaking as she picked

up her sword and faced the next challenger, Sir Aiko.

She was small and short, equal to Ciara in height and size. They appeared to be well matched physically. Sir Aiko

always had a polite smile on her face and she outdid Ciara when it cto silence. Speople called her the

mute knight for she was rarely heard talking.

On the battlefield, she could disarm her opponent in three moves. The first cut was meant to test defense, the

second was a distraction and the third---it was her famous spiral death cut.

Ciara experienced it all and she ended up on her back. There was no pain at least. Sir Aiko was not one for

theatrics and needless violence. She turned and walked away like a silent hero in a billowing black cape.

The night drew on and Ciara was beaten black and blue. She literally died twenty five times but, she started to

adapt. Her desperation was her strength for she lacked the training and yet she wanted results quickly.

Between rounds, the knights sat around Sir Skylar, drunk wine, stretched and laughed. Ciara did not try to join

them. She was not their friend and she was not looking to be one. She just wanted to be their equal someday.