Marguerite swung herself up on her horse, delicately sitting side saddle upon it. Her servant brought her her supplies, which she lifted easily up beside her on her saddle and tied into place. Only once she had all of her possessions safely with her was she brought her rapier. She took it out of her servant's hand, examined it for good polish and weight, and expertly slipped it into the frog on her hip.
"Are you sure that you will be alright traveling on your own?" Marguerite's butler asked. He had taken care of her for as long as she could remember, ensuring that she had everything she needed or wanted, before she even knew it herself. He had been a faithful servant to her since she was a small child. She loved him dearly, and she knew that he loved her too.
"I am sure, Seymour," Marguerite responded. "This is a trip that we both know I must embark on by myself." Seymour nodded, sad but respectful, and took a step back away from her horse. She took a moment to look over the servants that she had grown up around. They were just as much her family, if not more so, than her parents. She would miss them dearly while she was away. But her journey was inevitable, and it was best she be getting on her way.
With a wave, she steered her horse away and rode away from the only home that she had ever known. She tried not to look back, to see her home and friends slowly disappear into the horizon. But she couldn't keep herself from thinking about them. They had raised her, protected her, and taught her. It was only thanks to them that she would be able to complete the journey she was embarking on.
She traveled for days on end, heading north, camping at night beside her horse, slowly working away at the supplies she had brought herself. She slept with her hand firmly holding the hilt of her rapier, so that if bandits attacked her at night, she would be prepared. During the day she rode hard, trying to cover as much distance as possible, always side saddle so that she would be prepared to dismount at any time for any reason. She had practiced this for many years, and found the motion as natural as breathing.
Only once was she attacked by bandits. They arrived at nightfall, just as she was dismounting, and fell upon her quickly and heartlessly. They vastly underestimated her. Her rapier slipped free from its frog and stabbed quickly and accurately. Each bandit dropped from a single blow, piercing their hearts, throats, and brains. It was only a matter of moments before they all lay dead before her. She carefully wiped the blade on the grass before removing the bodies. She spent the night cleaning and resharpening her blade before falling asleep. She would not be slowed on her travels.
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