Trousers and Corsets

She looked semi normal to herself in the trousers, boots, and shirt. To the guards that were watching her as she trained though, she looked like a mad woman. Cathlinn could see it in their eyes, even as she started doing suicides in the courtyard early that morning. It wasn't buffed by Carmichael joining in when he found her. He was panting, scowling as he stretched himself out at the end of it. Cathlinn was still going, enjoying the pain as she sped back and forth.

He sat in the grass, watching her until she was done. He fell back into the grass as she rested her hands on her knees and began to stretch, sweat covering her whole body. She hated that this was the outcome of physical activity; sweat was never a friend to her skin after all. "My gods! You're a beast, your highness," Carmichael called. Cathlinn glanced at him and a smile spread across her face as she laughed. He looked over at her and grinned as she tried to get air into the clothes.

"When training, pain is weakness leaving the body. You have to be able to perform when you're tired so why not train as if you're actually doing it," she hummed. She sat down, leaning and stretching her legs out as she tried to catch her breath.

"What sort of philosophy are you spewing now," the two looked up at Simon who held a few books under his arms.

"The warrior kind," Carmichael teased. Simon rolled his eyes and held the books out to Cathlinn.

"You failed the history portion and I had questions about the science you used. No one has ever had answers like you," Simon stated.

"Can I get death by paper after training? I have to prove a point to the old geezer on the throne," Cathlinn slowly stood up and took a deep breath as the men's eyes widened. "What?"

"Can you be any more of a brute," Simon scolded. "It's almost like I have to reteach manners and common courtesy to you! It's infuriating!"

"I have common courtesy," Cathlinn pouted a bit and crossed her arms as she stood up. "It's called a filter. I haven't openly insulted anyone have I?"

"A filter and common courtesy are two different things I feel like," Carmichael butted in.

"And you, why are you acting all buddy buddy with her highness? It's unbecoming, even if you are one of her personal knights," Simon sniffed.

"Because Cathlinn isn't her highness," Cathlinn sneered. Her eyes widened a bit as Simon stared in shock. Carmichael whistled and stood up, rubbing the back of his neck as Simon's mouth fell open.

"This is what? Day five? Six? You really have no sense of secrecy, Cathlinn," he chuckled dryly.

"I don't know why it's being kept a fucking secret," Cathlinn began to panic, turning it on its head to sound like irritation. Carmichael seemed to catch on as he moved a little closer with his hands up.

"It's kept this way for your safety. The whole country would be in an uproar if they found out," he informed her.

"Then let them. It's how it's handled that matters," Cathlinn rubbed her face and scrunched you her nose, shifting the shirt. "I want to finish and take a bath."

"You're not-"

"Simon, this is something kept between her personal maids and knights, and the royal family," Carmichael warned.

"So you're all lying to the public," Simon testified. Cathlinn stopped short and stared at the two, holding her hands up.

"Have either of you heard about the don't ask don't tell policy," she asked quickly. The two shook their heads and she let her shoulders sag. "If it's not asked, then there is no answer to give right? That's the grounds of it. It's also to stop unnecessary judgement of someone's character."

"So, sort of like keeping a secret but not," Simon asked.

"Yeah. Sort of like that but less," Cathlinn twitched her hands side to side, "Touchy. You know?"

"That explains the personality switch," Simon began to mutter to himself as he stared at the books. "So I will start from scratch with history. What languages do you know?"

"Um," Cathlinn looked to Carmichael and he raised an eyebrow.

"It's a valid question. The princess was the ambassador in many occasions to many different countries," Carmichael confirmed with a single nod.

"This one," she asked. The two were still as statues and she rubbed her face again. She loved learning languages, it was something she always dreamed about. She could never rewire her brain to retain the languages though and it led her to be kicked out of her first military schooling. Her chest squeezed and she took in a big breath.

"Now, Cathlinn," Carmichael chuckled. "You can't really be serious right?" She shifted and looked down, the men staring at one another with wide eyes.

"This woman is the complete opposite of what this country needs," Simon muttered as he rubbed his temple. Cathlinn sighed before turning and starting for the training barracks quietly, leaving the two to discuss whatever it was the conversation led to.

Cathlinn hissed out as the maid touched a wet cloth to an open cut on her back. "I'm so sorry your highness," she started.

"It's okay," Cathlinn gently touched her arm, the maid glancing at her hand with wide eyes. "It's fine. It's going to hurt." The steam in the air came straight from the baths, causing Cathlinn to relax her body unwillingly. She thought it would be cold when she saw the stone floors but the maid had explained the heating system they had that kept everything an even temperature. How did they have something advanced like this yet didn't have it anywhere else?

"Your highness, I don't know how you're doing this. It just seems so brutish," the maid sighed.

"Brutish? There's nothing more fulfilling than fighting besides people you trust though," big words from Cathlinn's mouth. She was hoping it'd lead her to trust at least some of these people. Carmichael was an example of just that philosophy.

"You already have a sense of unity though, your highness," she giggled. "I honestly think you're just trying to find a lover amongst them."

"A lover," Cathlinn blinked as the maid quickly covered her mouth.

"Well, yes. You are getting a bit old for marriage, your highness," she sighed. Cathlinn stared and rubbed her face as she thought about it. Being married here was normal at the age of what? If she was getting old for marriage than she'd be forced into one wouldn't she?

"Damn it," she muttered.

"Your highness," the maid squeaked. Cathlinn stood and stretched a bit, looking down at her and slouching slightly.

"Well, who was supposed to be in charge of that," she muttered. The maid's eyes widened as she quickly stood up, a bright smile coming to her face.

"Oh my! I'll go speak to the lead ambassador," she giggled. "We can get you into the perfect dress as well!"

"I'm not going to wear a dress," Cathlinn stated. The maid's face was pure shock as she stopped at the bathroom door, glancing back. "I'm going to wear what I want. If they accept it and continue to pursue; I'll give them a chance."

"Your highness," her voice trailed off before her face turned red and she squealed. "What in the world has gotten into you?"

"What do you mean," Cathlinn asked.

"You're just so- I don't even know! It's like," the maid hummed and started pulling out a dress from one of the baskets set off to the far wall. "It's like you've decided to finally play with politics? Like, you're finally going to partake in this country's future!" Cathlinn stared and sighed a bit at the dress, standing up from the stool she had been made to sit on.

"I don't want to play politics. I have to play politics," Cathlinn muttered. She stared at the dress and walked towards a different basket, rummaging through it. "I'm not wearing another dress. Not unless it's necessary. So you can put that away."

"Your highness, this is what's in fashion right now," the maid protested.

"I'm not letting you suffocate me with a corset," Cathlinn groaned.