"Get up, you wimp!"
Gloria mercilessly struck Joan across the back with the hilt of her sword.
Joan cried out and scrambled to her feet. Sweat and dirt covered her face, making her look like a beggar.
"Wimp is for men."
"Fine, you're worse than a wimp! Where's your weapon?"
Only then did Joan spot her sword beside Gloria's feet. She went to pick it up, but Gloria raised a foot and stamped hard on her back. The sight sent a chill down Jody's neck.
He knew the Empire loved cutting off its enemies' heads and piling them into head-mounds...
In a corner of the Stronghold hall, two Imperial officials were sweeping the floor.
"I can't stand this..." one muttered indignantly.
"Calm down. Have you forgotten? She's an impostor," his companion reminded him.
"I... I know. But that Orc Woman doesn't, and she still dares to treat an Imperial Princess like this."
They had watched Joan change over a few short days from a clumsy, somewhat naive girl into the person she was now. They could more or less guess why she had agreed to such brutal training.
The Orc Woman acted as if she had a grudge against the false Princess. Calling it training was generous; broken bones were the least of it. Several times, Joan had nearly died. Once, she landed badly and struck the back of her head, convulsing on the spot. Another time, right at the beginning, the Orc Woman had insisted on using iron swords, calling wooden ones weapons for cowards. Within a few moves, she had run Joan through the chest...
If the Blue Dragon hadn't spared no expense to save her, the two of them would no longer need to stay here.
"If Joan were the Princess... that wouldn't be so bad, would