The King's Artist

Ch 40: Confidence

Henry almost laughed upon seeing Adelaide walking towards him, dressed back in men's clothing. She had a stern look on her face as she walked as if she was thinking about something incredibly serious. That, or she was constipated. The notion made Henry want to laugh even more. However, they were in the company of several trainees, and it most likely wasn't appropriate to just begin laughing maniacally.

Adelaide slid up next to Henry quietly and refused to make eye contact with him. Instead, her gaze settled on the fields where at least a few dozen boys were rehearsing moves with dull-bladed swords. The sound of metal on metal resonated loudly, but even louder were the yelps of pain the came from poor maneuvers and failed dodges. Adelaide quickly spotted and exhausted looking Kayden, who was hanging his head and repeatedly reinstructing certain boys on proper hand positioning as well as footing. However, the general was severely outnumbered, and several groups were dangerously neglected to their own stupidity.

"Didn't take you long to change," Henry noted humorously, his voice subtle and quiet. Adelaide rolled her eyes, refusing to look in his direction. They stood a reasonable distance from the others, so there was no worry of being overheard, but Adelaide still found herself annoyed by his remark.

"Well, it turns out I don't like dresses all that much," admitted Adelaide in a monotonic tone of voice. It was like conceding defeat, and it filled her mouth with a nasty, bile taste. Henry resisted eliciting any further remarks on the matter despite an overwhelming urge to tease Adelaide.

"Shall we go and help Kayden?" Henry suggested with a small smirk as he looked down at Adelaide. In response, Adelaide's eyes narrowed at Henry and his undertone of mocking, but she nodded her head anyway. They split and headed off to two distinct groups that were the furthest from Kayden and had received the smallest amount of guidance.

Adelaide's eyes immediately went to a towering figure whose head appeared to float above those around him. Despite his intimidating height and size, though, his face was round and flushed, giving him an appearance closer to a child's than a man's. He appeared to be arguing with someone who Adelaide couldn't even see until she had moved entirely around him. She initially thought he was fighting with a red-haired and freckled boy who was, to her surprise, smaller than her. But as she moved closer to the two, she spotted a third individual who was clearly the primary target of their complaints.

"Lance, you need to be more careful," the red-haired boy stated furiously. His ears were nearly an identical shade of his hair, and he looked to be trying to make himself bigger to rival the height of the other man. "You could have seriously injured Harry just now."

The redhead gestured to the boyish-faced boy next to him who, Adelaide realized, was bleeding on his forearm. The weapons they were practicing with her dulled, yes, but still dangerous. From where Adelaide stood, the cut didn't look deep, but it was clearly causing Harry a considerable degree of pain as small, silent tears rolled over his round cheeks.

Lance didn't seem to care a great deal. In Adelaide's opinion, he was incredibly attractive but had the face of a jerk. His hair hung long and past his shoulders, and was the vibrant color of gold. His eyes were hooded and complimented by thick eyelashes and bushy eyebrows, and his lips were thin and pulled into a hard, consistent frown. He was more muscular than the red-head or Harry, with a more confident and prouder stance.

"What seems to be the problem?" Adelaide asked as she approached them. Simultaneously, they all turned towards her and, as if rehearsed, each gave her a confused look. It dawned on Adelaide that none of the trainees had ever actually seen her as Arthur. Her interruption and the vocalized authority clearly perplexed them.

"And who are you?" The redhead asked, annoyed. His tone was irritating, making Adelaide instantly regret stepping in. However, the pity that she felt towards Harry kept her from turning around and leaving them to their own demises.