I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 73

“Your Grace? Is something wrong…?”

“I will personally oversee your self-defense training.”

“What?”

“What?!”

Lyol and I exclaimed in unison.

“Excuse me, but isn’t self-defense the one thing I’m better at than Your Grace? That’s why I was tasked with teaching it. Why the sudden change?”

“I’ve taught self-defense plenty of times,” the duke replied, waving his hand dismissively, signaling Lyol to step aside. Lyol scoffed lightly.

“Such unwavering devotion, truly admirable.”

My face flushed bright red, and Lyol, clearly entertained, chuckled as he walked off, not forgetting to wink at me on his way out. I watched him go, flustered, before turning my gaze back to the duke. His expression was neutral, though there was a faint hint of awkwardness.

“Well… I actually think I’d prefer it if Your Grace taught me.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, I feel more comfortable with you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Somewhere nearby, a muffled chuckle escaped. I’d already noticed that the knights around us had been eavesdropping on our conversation, but there wasn’t much I could do. After all, I was being honest.

The knights had slowly crept closer, curious, but as soon as the duke turned his sharp gaze toward them, they scattered like startled fish, rushing in all directions.

“Let’s start with the basics,” the duke said. “The most important part of self-defense is overcoming fear. If you freeze, even for a moment, you won’t have the chance to use any techniques before your opponent overwhelms you.”

I nodded, remembering the wrist-grabbing exercise from earlier. Hesitation could have left me completely vulnerable, and with someone stronger, like a knight, I might not have been able to escape at all.

“If you’re in a position to strike, the best target is between the legs. It’s one of the body’s biggest vulnerabilities. Try it.”

“Try it?!” I asked, startled.

The duke nodded calmly. “Use as much force as you can and kick.”

“No, I can’t possibly—”

“It’s fine. Go ahead.”

“….”

I took a deep breath. Surely he would dodge, right? Trusting him more than myself, I swung my leg up with all the force I could muster. But before my foot could land, the duke caught my leg mid-air. My body tilted back precariously, only to be steadied as his arm wrapped around my waist. My leg dangled awkwardly in the air.

“This is what happens,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“…I’m completely useless.”

“You’re just starting. Everyone is like this at first.”

The duke set me upright and began explaining again.

“When you kick, aim higher—toward the chest. Think of striking the torso, not the legs. Lift your foot as high as possible.”

He brought over a straw dummy used for sword practice. Enchanted to move slightly, it seemed harmless enough, though the thought of it shifting unexpectedly at night sent a shiver down my spine. Following his instructions, I aimed for the chest and swung my leg. With a dull thud, my foot landed between the dummy’s legs.

“Ugh.”

A groan emerged from the knights who had reconvened nearby, watching with morbid fascination. I couldn’t blame them—it looked painful, even though the target was just a dummy. My own leg stung slightly from the impact.

“You need to kick even harder,” the duke said. “Strike as though you’re aiming to incapacitate your opponent completely.”

“….”

Any harder and I might genuinely kill someone, I thought. But I nodded, understanding that this was necessary when facing someone physically stronger.

“Another vulnerable spot is the nose,” the duke continued, stepping closer and taking hold of my arm. “Use your elbow to strike the dummy’s solar plexus.”

I did as he instructed, though my strike felt weak. It would likely hurt an opponent, but it wouldn’t incapacitate them. Seeing my hesitation, the duke added more detail.

“Now, from that position, pivot your arm and bring your fist down onto the nose. Keep your elbow steady as the focal point—it’s where your strength will come from.”

Following his guidance, I swung again. This time, a sharp crack sounded as straw scattered from the dummy’s face. The motion resembled someone’s nose bleeding, and for a moment, my own nose tingled in sympathy.

“For today, let’s focus on repeating what you’ve learned—wrist escapes, kicks, and strikes,” the duke said.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

With his continued guidance, he adjusted my posture and gave additional tips, helping my movements become more stable. After over an hour of training, the duke finally announced, “That’s enough for now.”

By then, I was gasping for air.

“…I’ll need to work on your stamina as well,” he said, observing me.

“Yes,” I replied weakly.

“How about we take a walk every morning after you wake up?”

Something told me his version of a “walk” wouldn’t be the leisurely stroll I imagined, but I nodded in agreement. After experiencing a kidnapping—or whatever that ordeal was—I was determined to learn how to protect myself.

“And we’ll need to increase your food intake. You’re eating more now, but it’s not enough.”

“Let’s do that gradually…” I muttered.

It was true that my appetite had increased since coming to the duchy, where meals often featured my favorite dishes. Compared to my time at Airden, I was eating about 1.5 times as much. While I hadn’t gained noticeable weight, I could feel my body becoming stronger. Still, any further increase would need to happen slowly.

The duke raised an eyebrow. “You eat too little.”

“I think it’s average…”

“Is that the Lamia average?”

“Probably,” I replied, recalling that even Leia seemed to eat about the same amount as I did, if not less.

“Still, you need to eat more to stay healthy. I’ll make sure today’s meals are filled with dishes you enjoy.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Thank you.”

The duke leaned in and kissed my cheek. The gesture made me happy—until I remembered the knights were still nearby. My face turned crimson, but thankfully, none of them dared tease or mock us. Most simply watched with interest, and some even seemed oddly pleased by the sight. Lyol, fortunately, was nowhere to be seen, likely off resting.

“Take a ten-minute break,” the duke said. “Then we’ll begin swordsmanship training.”

“Ten minutes? That’s it?”

“If you rest any longer, your muscles will cool down.”

“Yes…”

My reply was subdued, and the duke chuckled softly as he reached out to gently stroke my cheek, offering comfort.

“Will Your Grace be teaching me swordsmanship as well?”

“No, that will be Leon.”

“Sir Leon?”

“He’s the most skilled swordsman in Iser, apart from me.”

“Sir Leon seems to be a man of many talents.”

“Well, he is. He’s also the finest knight in the Iser Order.”

That was unexpected. I had assumed the duke trusted Leon mainly because of his unique magic, but to think he was also the best swordsman here. It felt like a waste to have someone like him assigned as my personal guard. In a way, it made me feel guilty.

During my precious ten-minute break, I sipped water and let my body relax. The leather armguards I had put on for swordsmanship training felt unfamiliar and a little awkward. Meanwhile, the other knights showed no sign of resting, continuously honing their skills. The duke moved among them, offering advice and adjustments.

Soon, Sir Leon appeared. It seemed my break was already over.

“Looking forward to working with you, Your Highness,” Leon said with a cheerful smile.

“Likewise. Thank you for taking the time.”

“It’s an honor to teach Your Highness swordsmanship. Truly.”

I nodded, unsure how to respond to his enthusiasm.

For the first time in my life, I held a practice sword. It was fascinating—moderately heavy, with a shorter length than the swords the other knights used. The hilt was polished smooth, almost metallic, with a textured grip to prevent slipping. The craftsmanship was so fine it almost looked ornamental.

“It’s much shorter than Sir Leon’s sword.”

“Yes, a shorter blade requires less strength to wield. It’s also tailored to your build. I had it made specifically for you. If you find anything uncomfortable after today’s training, I’ll adjust it.”

I nodded again and positioned the sword as instructed, extending it forward with both hands. Sir Leon moved beside me, adjusting the angle of my arms.

“It seems you’ve used a bow before. Your arms aren’t completely lacking in strength. Beginners often struggle to hold this position without shaking.”

…I was relieved not to look completely incompetent.

“Now, from this position, swing the blade downward as if cutting through the air.”

I followed his instructions, aiming to make a straight cut, but the blade veered slightly to the side. I tried several more times, only to meet the same result.

“It’s the resistance of the air. With more practice and stronger arms, you’ll be able to cut straight.”

“…I see.”

From that point on, I focused solely on repeating the movement. My mind emptied, and I became absorbed in the rhythm of swinging the blade.

“There! That was excellent. Can you try it again?”

I paused, unsure what I’d done differently. Planting my feet, I swung downward once more. This time, Leon clapped his hands enthusiastically.

“Your Highness truly excels at everything.”

I could feel the gazes of the other knights on me, including the duke, who watched from among them with his arms crossed.

“Normally, you’d need to practice a thousand swings a day,” Leon said.

“A thousand?!”

How many had I done just now? Certainly not a hundred. Leon chuckled, clearly amused by my reaction, and picked up his own practice sword.

“Would Your Highness like to cross swords with me?”

“Already? Is that okay?”

“This will be a crash course. It’s important to get a feel for it.”

“…Alright.”

Reluctantly, I raised my sword and faced Leon. The attention of the knights shifted to us, and even the duke looked intrigued. I hesitated for a moment, regretting my decision, but there was no turning back now.

“I’ll stay still,” Leon said. “Think of me as an obstacle and strike at me.”

He extended his sword with one hand, holding it steady. Something about his stance made me think I might actually have a chance to knock it from his grasp.

Then a memory surfaced—Leon could transform into a cat. The golden stripes on the cat I’d seen at the banquet and in the forest matched his hair perfectly. The realization made me blurt out a question.

“Sir Leon.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“If I manage to knock your sword from your hand, will you show me that form?”

Leon immediately burst into laughter, catching the attention of the entire training ground. The knights exchanged curious glances, clearly intrigued by my words.

“Knock my sword out of my hand? Dream big, Your Highness!”

Leon was thoroughly entertained, which pricked my pride a little.

“Fine,” he said, still laughing. “If you can, I’ll show you. Now, let’s begin.”

I took a deep breath, tightened my grip on the sword, and charged at him.

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