The next morning, Damien woke at the crack of dawn to begin his training with Dunken. The mansion had a room where Edmond and his guards practiced magic, and that was where Damien and Dunken decided to meet for swordsmanship training.
Dunken handed Damien a short wooden sword and began teaching him the basics: stance, grip, swinging, and blocking—all of which Damien already knew. In fact, he had mastered swordsmanship in his earlier years.
However, since Lucas had never touched a sword in his life, it would be suspicious if he suddenly displayed proficiency. It was to his advantage to keep his skills hidden, especially since he couldn't use magic; surprise attacks were all he could rely on.
He played his part perfectly as a weak farmhand who couldn't wield a sword, while subtly showcasing enough skill to make them think he had potential. He even allowed himself to be hit repeatedly by Dunken.
Dunken, on the other hand, didn't hold back; it was almost as if he were punishing Damien. He delivered ruthless blows while cursing how pathetic Damien was.
They all looked down on him, even the guards who were supposed to be training, smirked as they watched him get beaten. It was hard to look away. The sickening sound the wooden sword made when it connected with the most vulnerable parts of his body was too disturbing for them to ignore.
Or perhaps it wasn't just the sound of the wooden sword hitting him; it was the eerie silence emanating from Damien as he endured the beating. Dunken wanted him to complain, to cry out in pain. Even the slightest whimper from Damien would have been enough to quell his desires. But instead he got nothing, the only sound was of the wooden sword hitting him and the sound of his own gasps as he slowly got tired. Everyone watched it unfold silently, unaware of what was really happening…
They didn't realize it then, but they were slowly developing a fear of Damien. It's human nature to be afraid of things they can't understand. A boy getting ruthlessly beaten without uttering a word was undeniably terrifying.
Each hit he took only added to their fear. They couldn't help but wonder, "What monster did the young master, Edmond, pick up on the side of the road?"
By the time his training was finished, Damien was covered in bruises, with a deep cut on his forehead smearing his face in blood.
As instructed, he headed to the library for his lessons with Victor, another pain in the ass he had to deal with. As he limped through the mansion, he was suddenly grabbed by the arm. Turning around, he saw one of the maids clinging to him.
"Are you alright? You look injured," she said, cupping his face to examine his wounds. "Come with me; I'll take a look at you," she insisted, pulling him along by the hand.
"I can't; I have to go."
Damien tried to pull his hand from her grasp, but the woman grew even more agitated.
"Listen here, boy, I don't know what happened to you, but you're not going anywhere until I take a look at your injuries."
She brought him back to her room and began tending to his wounds, cleaning the cut that was causing blood to run down his face. That's when he got a good look at her.
If he had to guess, she was in her late thirties. She wore a maid's uniform that clung nicely to her mature figure, the only hint of her age being the well defined cures on her body; her face remained soft and delicate. She had long red hair that cascaded down to her waist.
"What's your name, boy?" she asked, lifting his shirt to inspect his bruises.
"I'm Lucas. May I ask your name, miss?"
"Uh… you're very well-spoken, aren't you? My name is Mariah. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lucas." She gave his body a scornful look, taking in not only his recent bruises but also the old ones that had become scars on his body caused by years of bullying from Luke and the harsh labor Lucas had endured. "How are you so calm? With your injuries, you should be in a lot of pain."
She dipped a piece of cloth into a bucket of water and began cleaning his wounds, picking out a few splinters from the wooden sword before wrapping bandages around his injuries.
"It's just some scratches from my sword training; honestly, it's not a big deal."
Damien had grown accustomed to pain over his 400 years of life; he had felt almost every kind of pain imaginable, and his mind had adapted to it. Except for what Victor had done to him yesterday. Magic was truly remarkable; if only he could get his hands on it.
It didn't have to be magic; he just needed his own power, no matter what form it took. Even the slightest advantage would help him significantly. He needed to learn more about this world as soon as possible.
"I'm not so sure about that. You're a strange one, Lucas. You're quite skinny, too; you should eat more. Tell you what, I'll make something for you to eat so you can regain your strength." she said giving a smile warm enough to melt a man's heart.
Damien was a bit taken aback by Mariah's kindness, and he knew exactly why she was being so nice to him. It was pity. She felt sorry for him, and he welcomed it; it didn't matter why she was helping him as long as he could use her in some way. If it was pity she felt, he knew exactly what to do to tug on those heart strings of hers. If it was love, he would make her swoon.
Every emotion she had towards him could be exploited in someway.
"I can't, Miss Mariah. I really have to go now. Victor is waiting for me, and it might land me in more trouble if I stop to eat with you."
"Okay, then. How about you have lunch with me when you're finished? I always eat in the garden; it has a great view. Meet me there when you're done, okay?"
Damien gave a small nod and then left for the library, where Victor was waiting.