Yet, as she glanced at Yuri's satisfied smirk and Shin's amused expression, a thought gnawed at the back of her mind. What if all of this—the etiquette, the refinement, the lessons—wasn't just preparation for a festival, but something far bigger?
Something she wasn't ready for? The thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
The air in the room felt heavier, the weight of expectation pressing down on her like an unseen force. She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening at her sides, her instincts warning her that there was something she wasn't being told.
It was a familiar feeling, one she had learned to recognize back when every decision meant life or death. "What exactly are we preparing for?" she muttered, more to herself than to them, but the question hung in the air like a blade poised to strike.
Neither Yuri nor Shin answered immediately, and the silence only deepened the unease curling in her gut. Yuri's expression remained neutral, but Shin's gaze lingered on her for a moment, unreadable yet calculating.
He was measuring her, weighing something in his mind that she couldn't quite grasp. She had potential, that much she knew, but potential for what?
This training wasn't just for show. He was preparing her for something beyond mere survival. Something that required deception, adaptability, and control.
But he wasn't going to reveal the full extent of his plans just yet. Not with Yuri here.
Finally, he exhaled, his tone deliberately light but carrying an edge of finality. "You'll understand in time."
Laverna felt her frustration spike, but she forced herself to remain calm. If learning all this nonsense was what it took to stay alive, she'd do it.
She'd play along, keep her head down, and master every rule they threw at her. For now, it was about survival. But a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered that this was only the first step toward something far greater, and far more dangerous.
A quiet shiver ran down her spine. Whether she liked it or not, the game had already begun.
Shin wasted no time, immediately pushing Laverna to her limits. The first week tested not just her body but her resolve. Every day began before sunrise, the morning chill biting at her skin as Shin dragged her from sleep to begin their training.
At dawn, she ran, climbed, and crawled through the dense forest, her muscles screaming with every movement. If she stumbled, if she hesitated, if she showed even a sliver of weakness, Shin would make her start again.
There was no sympathy, no patience for excuses. They sparred.
Stances, footwork, and weight distribution, Shin drilled it into her until her body ached. He struck her down repeatedly, his attacks unrelenting.
She had no time to whimper, no chance to catch her breath. If she wanted to fight, she had to learn to stand.
"You think an enemy will give you a break because you're tired?" he had scoffed. "They'll kill you where you stand. Move."
She wove between trees, balanced on thin branches, and learned how to roll across uneven ground to absorb impact. She needed to move quickly, adjust instantly, or risk being thrown to the dirt.
Her bruises became badges of her failure, each one a lesson carved into her skin. Her endurance grew, her reflexes sharpened. Pain became something she simply acknowledged, not something that dictated her movements.
Each morning, before her etiquette training began, Shin reminded her of Yuri's lessons. "You're not just learning to fight, Laverna. You're learning to present yourself properly. Strength is useless if you can't command presence."
She scoffed but didn't argue, begrudgingly straightening her posture even when exhausted. She practiced keeping her back straight as she walked through the training ground, controlling the way she carried herself, just as Yuri had drilled into her the night before.
Shin's sharp gaze didn't miss a thing. When she slouched or slipped back into her casual gait, he was quick to correct her with a single look.
At night, Yuri's lessons about Western etiquette commenced, teaching her how to grace herself as a noblewoman, albeit for just a day. She hated every moment of it.
The stiff postures, the forced pleasantries, the endless curtsies, but she endured. Survival demanded it. Learning how to move through high society was just another battlefield, one with different weapons.
By the time she sat down for brunch and dinner, she was expected to incorporate her lessons. Laverna's natural inclination was to shove food into her mouth, but Yuri's stern voice echoed in her mind.
Small bites. Chew slowly. Hold your utensils properly. She tried, and every time her grip faltered or she slipped back into old habits, Shin would clear his throat, giving her a knowing look.
She wanted to strangle him.
"Proper table manners, Laverna," he teased one evening as she instinctively reached for a piece of bread with her hands.
Glaring at him, she grabbed her utensils instead, deliberately slow, making sure he saw the irritation in her movements. "Happy now?"
He smirked. "Almost. Don't stab your food like it's your enemy."
She gritted her teeth but complied. Despite her frustration, she couldn't deny that it was getting easier, that the motions were becoming less foreign. It was just another skill, another form of discipline.
And through it all, Shin tested her patience. He taunted her, provoked her, pushed her buttons until her frustration boiled over. But every time she lost her temper, he would knock her to the ground effortlessly.
"Control yourself, or be controlled by someone else," he warned.
Her hands trembled, her body burned, but she refused to break. She wouldn't let him win.
She wouldn't let her past keep defining her. And as much as she resented the training, a small part of her craved it. She was growing stronger, and that meant something.
By the end of the first week, she could barely stand. Her body was battered, her limbs heavy, but something had changed.
She was adjusting. The pain was still there, but she wasn't succumbing to it as easily. She wasn't just surviving anymore.
She was learning.
Shin, watching from a distance, smirked to himself. She was stubborn, but she was improving. And this was only the beginning.
Yet, as the second week approached, Laverna knew the worst had yet to come. Shin had broken her body, but now he would shape her into something new.
The foundation had been set, but true skill demanded suffering. And for reasons she couldn't quite understand, she didn't fear the pain anymore.
Somewhere deep inside her, she had begun to seek it. Not in a way she could explain, not as something to be feared, but as something to be learned from.
Each bruise was a lesson, every aching muscle proof of progress. The sting of failure only made her push harder, as if punishing herself was the only way she could truly grow. And yet, she couldn't shake the nagging thought that it wasn't just about discipline or survival anymore.
She hated how much she wanted it.
Her instincts told her that pain was a teacher, and she was an eager student. And though she buried the thought, ignored the strange satisfaction that came with enduring each hit, she knew the truth was lurking beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.
As she looked up at the early morning sky, she braced herself for what was to come. Because this was far from over.
Her gaze drifted to Shin, who stood with his arms crossed, the faintest glimmer of approval in his eyes.
He saw the fire in her, the resilience buried beneath years of hardship. He had chosen her for a reason. And she had no choice but to see it through.
Laverna clenched her fists. Whatever came next, she would endure. Because for the first time in her life, she wasn't just fighting to survive, she was fighting to become something more.