18. Lessons (Patreon)

Fatima stood up from the chair, which got a slight scare out of Aloe. The scribe controlled her body to the best of her extent as she knew that the sultanzade was hosting her sense stance. Her senses should be sharper than mine because she has more vitality. A fact that haunted Aloe. She didn’t have much vitality. Perhaps a lot compared to normal people, but it paled before the sultanzade, let alone the sultanah.

“You already know a lot of stances, to be honest, there are not that many. What matters is that you grow your Nurture and learn to use them correctly.” The toned princess explained as she slowly pranced forward. “I do not know how competent you are with them, so we should try that first.”

Aloe took a puff of fresh air. “What do you want me to do?”

Fatima Asina may not be her ally, but it was the best tool at her disposal to improve with Infusion. She would need to deposit a modicum of trust in her.

“Let us go in order, change your stance to strength.”

Aloe didn’t protest and did as commanded. Though it wasn’t a fast procedure. Disregarding charm, strength and speed were her least used internal infusions, meaning it took her a couple of minutes to switch out of acuity. Still way better than the far cry of five minutes it originally took her.

The sultanzade waited patiently next to the bed, though Aloe couldn’t deny her fixed stare distracted her more than once. She could feel the woman eat her with her eyes, and even if she wasn’t looking, her presence was tangible. Her body was extremely hot, the openings on her dress letting all her body heat fly free towards Aloe.

“Done,” Aloe stated taciturnly, controlling her eyes so they wouldn’t doze off toward the two pillars of ripped muscles in front of her face, let alone the bursting balloons.

“Give me your hand.” Fatima requested calmly.

The commoner hesitated for a second, but she raised her hand and the sultanzade caught it with her own.

“Press my hand with all your might.”

Now, Aloe would have done that without needing to be asked, but she knew better than to let her aggressiveness rampant.

“Ehm… princess? I do not think I should do that; it would be unbefitting of my station…” The scribe said with the nervousness of a commoner talking to a noble.

“Save your excuses, this is training. If one or both parties do not get hurt, then it is useless.” Fatima responded. “Now, press!”

Perhaps it was because of the ferociousness of the order, or maybe because Aloe had wanted to hurt a sultanzade for a long time, but she didn’t hesitate this time.

Aloe gripped the big, muscular, bony hand with all her might.

And she pressed.

And more.

Bones began creaking from the strength of the grip.

Hers.

“Ukh!” Aloe groaned in pain as her hand shook from all the force she was putting on the grip. Fatima remained unexpressive. That only kindled Aloe’s latent rage even more. “Ugh!”

She didn’t have the best posture from her prone position, and she was far away from her prime strength, but she knew for a fact that she had never used up so much strength in her life before. Her life hadn’t been physically demanding until recently, and even then, it was more a test of resistance than a feat of strength.

Her whole body began shaking from what should have been a lethal grip. Aloe gritted her teeth as all the blood vessels in her arm threatened to pop out of her skin.

“Stop.” Fatima sharply commanded and Aloe was forced to comply.

She released the pressure on her arm and it instantly fell down to the side of the bed, completely wasted.

“Ahh… ahh…” Furious pants left Aloe’s mouth. Even though she had just put pressure on a single arm, she was utterly drained, as if she had done the journey to the oasis on foot without stops.

“I did not expect much considering your build and vitality, but it is even worse than I expected.” The sultanzade commented lazily. “I doubt you can crush a skull with that grip. A basic thing, mind you. Tell me, have you practiced with the strength stance?”

“I… I have not.” The scribe said between inhalations.

“Hmm…” Fatima brushed her hair again with shallow caresses as she pondered. “Switch to defense.”

“I…” Aloe’s exhaustion was slapped out of her once she noticed the implications of the statement. “I am still recovering, princess! I do not think we should do that kind of testing.”

“Oh, do not be a wimp.” The sultanzade pranced forward and approached her face to the commoner’s, eyes locking. “I know how to control my strength, I will only test you. I do not require to harm you in any way, only pry your body.”

Aloe held her breath and looked at the woman’s dark green eyes. She wasn’t using charm, and though the scribe couldn’t determine with exactitude what infusion she was using, she bet on acuity.

“As you command, teacher.” She gave the princess the satisfaction of superiority. If only the one in a student-teacher relationship. 

Fatima smiled satisfied and Aloe switched her flow of vitality, going from a frenetic rapid to a powerful yet inexorable march. 

“Done,” Aloe stated calmly.

The cultivator raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the speed, even if it was clear she was thinking about it. After all, it had taken Aloe two minutes to change into strength, but only a few seconds for toughness.

It was Fatima’s turn to grab Aloe’s hand, raising it slightly above the bed, but maintaining the extremity parallel with it. The dark-skinned woman put strength on her grip, pinching the petite woman’s fingers, but soon enough she got more vicious, forgetting the hand and going for the forearm. Aloe held her breath by reflex. The grip wasn’t painful, but it was certainly restraining. The scribe could feel the circulation of blood in her arm was interrupted, her hand growing colder and number for the second.

But the test didn’t end there. The sultanzade didn’t have enough.

She grew more adventurous, moving her hand upwards if ever so slowly. From the forearm, it hastily passed the elbow, and then slowly arrived at the armpit. By then, Aloe’s whole arm had grown cold, but it was especially noticeable with the sultanzade’s hot caress. That body temperature wasn’t one a normal person would survive; only feverish people could even have it, and that didn’t mean it was healthy.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion, but it took Aloe a few seconds to realize how there was a hand wrapped around her neck. Even before possible death, air stopping from flowing into her body, the scribe remained calm.

“Princess, could you please refrain from such antics whilst I am recovering?”

Fatima looked Aloe straight in the eyes, her visage drawing a grin. The scribe could feel the hot and addled imperial’s breath on her face. 

“We are just testing, dear…” The woman encroached on her, whispering in her ear.

“Then I should recommend putting a stop to this test.” The scribe’s voice was devoid of any emotion, a testament of impassivity. “Otherwise, I am going to be unconscious for the rest of this lesson.”

Those had been the right words, an instant later Fatima liberated her death grip. Not before biting the commoner’s ears. Ah. Aloe barely managed to contain the yelp, the surprise only lingering in her mind. With her toughness, it was painful, even if it had been a full-blown bite. That didn’t erase the fact that the princess’ breath lingered in her ear lobe as she removed her face.

“Your defense stance is impressive, even with your little vitality and weakened state. We should check for the rest of the stances, but something tells me this is the one you are most proficient in.” Her words almost felt like praise, but they were too objective for that. How can you be that casual after such actions? The bite lingered in Aloe’s mind more than the chokehold. “I would dare to say you are twice as effective with this stance as someone with the same vitality.”

“Is proficiency that important?” Aloe asked, uncaring of her near-death experience, prying the sultanzade for knowledge.

“Normally, no.” Fatima swayed her head in negation. “But there are definitely special cases. Most sultanzade center ourselves in one stance because of that, because we can be more productive and efficient, but nothing stops you from practicing all of them. If I recall correctly, Mother is technically not proficient in any stance, but maybe she is just faking it. It would not surprise me if that were the case.”

That was why Aloe maintained her cool, because of outbursts like these. In a single monologue, Fatima had showered with important data like the sultanah not having a preferred stance. I thought she was going to say she’s not proficient in one stance but all of them, but she doesn’t seem to be lying. Aloe pondered after appraising Fatima’s close body with her enhanced senses, but even then, that wasn’t the part that mattered the most to Aloe.

Ourselves? If a single painting spoke more than a thousand words, a single slip spoke more than a thousand paintings.