Chapter 384: The Briarwood Girl (1)
I was born into a legacy of steel and honor, but my heart always yearned for something different. The Briarwood name carried weight throughout the kingdom, known for producing fierce female warriors who could outmatch any knight in combat. From the moment I could walk, I was thrust into training – swords, spears, and shields became my unwilling companions.
My mother, Lady Briarwood, was a formidable presence. Her piercing green eyes seemed to judge my every move, always finding me lacking. "Arielle," she’d bark, her voice as sharp as the blade she wielded, "put your back into it! A Briarwood doesn’t flinch at the clash of steel!"
But no matter how hard I tried, the weapons felt awkward in my hands. While my sisters reveled in the thrill of combat, their laughter ringing out as they sparred in the courtyard, I found myself drawn to quieter pursuits. Numbers fascinated me, the way they could reveal patterns and solve puzzles that brute force could never touch.
One particularly frustrating day, after hours of failing to master a complex sword technique, I retreated to my room. Tears of frustration stung my eyes as I pulled out my secret treasure – a book of mathematics I’d traded for with a traveling merchant. As I lost myself in the elegant solutions and logical progressions, my mother’s voice cut through my sanctuary.
"What in the name of the gods are you doing?" She snatched the book from my hands, her face a mask of disgust. "This is what you waste your time on? Numbers and scribbles? You’re a disgrace to the Briarwood name!"
I stood, my voice shaking but determined. "Mother, please. I’m not like Lyanna or Mira. I can’t be the warrior you want me to be. But I can be useful in other ways. Let me show you –"
The stinging slap across my face silenced me. "Enough!" she roared. "You will train harder, you will be worthy of our name, or you will be nothing at all."
That night, as I lay in bed, my cheek still burning, I made a decision that would change the course of my life. I couldn’t live this lie anymore. I had to find a place where my talents were valued, not scorned.
Before dawn broke, I packed a small bag with clothes, my precious mathematics book, and what little coin I had saved. With a heavy heart, I penned a letter to my family: