Chapter 2737: Dame Martha Finlay
Chapter 2737: Dame Martha Finlay
Date: Unspecified
Time: Unspecified
Location: Kingdom of Scotland, Lothian, Edinburgh, Palace of Holyroodhouse
In the private training hall designated just for them, Coryn and Reven held a flawless inverted stance, their conjoined heads steady as the rest of their bodies aligned in disciplined symmetry. They performed thumb handstand push-ups with one arm at a time, the working arm planted firmly beneath them while the unused arm was folded neatly behind their back.
With controlled precision, they lowered their combined weight onto a single thumb, then pressed back up without the slightest tremor. At the peak of each repetition, they shifted balance in one smooth motion, springing lightly off the supporting thumb just enough to switch arms mid-air before landing on the opposite thumb. The transition was seamless—no wobble, no hesitation, no need for recovery.
To a casual observer, it would have seemed impossible. To them, it was simply another synchronized drill, their two bodies moving with the instinctive harmony of something that had never known separation.
Upside down beneath the pale courtyard sky, the sisters continued their relentless rhythm, bodies rising and lowering in perfect unison.
"One thousand and ten... one thousand and twelve... one thousand and fourteen..." Reven counted through clenched teeth, her voice tight with strain as she took the even numbers.
"One thousand and eleven... one thousand and thirteen... one thousand and fifteen..." Coryn followed immediately after, claiming the odd numbers without missing a beat.
Though their conjoined heads remained steady, the stress was audible now. Sweat traced down their inverted forms, yet neither faltered. The numbers climbed higher, each repetition landing cleanly on a single thumb before they sprang lightly to switch arms again.
"Your Highnesses, the tonic is prepared. Please drink it while it’s still warm... unless you prefer it sour," their personal maid announced as she entered the training hall, carrying a polished tray bearing a steaming pot and two porcelain cups.
This wing of the palace allowed no other attendants. Only their personal maid was permitted within its boundaries. She had once served King James directly as a part of his royal knights and was among the very few people he trusted with his life. If there was anyone he would entrust with his two most precious treasures, it was her.
Martha had proved King James’s decision correct when she had willingly relinquished her Dame title so she could carry out her king’s request without casting a shadow over the kingdom’s knights.
The maid set the tray down carefully and began pouring the tonic into the cups, the fragrant steam curling upward in thin spirals.
From the corner of her eye, she watched as the princesses pushed off the ground using only their thumbs, propelling their combined bodies high into the air. With practiced control, they executed a tight somersault before landing lightly on their feet. Even as they rotated, they adjusted the angle of their necks in perfect coordination to ensure their conjoined heads did not throw off their balance or collide awkwardly mid-turn.
As the princesses approached, the maid picked up two fresh towels and gently wiped the sweat from their faces and shoulders before placing the cups of tonic into their waiting hands.
Reven lifted hers first. The surface of the tonic shimmered faintly in her vision, tinted in a shade she had never seen before. Their unawakened Chivalry had long allowed them to perceive things in different but specific shades, but today the hue of their regular tonic being served was unmistakably different. Coryn noticed it too.
"Martha," Reven asked slowly, her gaze still fixed on the cup, "did you add something new to the tonic today?"
The question had barely left her lips when the maid moved. Her hand shot forward without warning, fingers thrusting straight toward Reven’s chest. But Coryn reacted instantly, she yanked her sister sideways. The strike pierced through flesh but missed the heart by a narrow margin.
*Crash* The cups that had slipped from their hands, finally, shattered against the stone floor and scalding tonic splashed across the hall, letting out a pungent smell reacting with sweat drops on the stone tiles.
"Tsk," The maid clicked her tongue in irritation and flipped backward in a clean somersault, narrowly evading the fist Coryn threw in retaliation.
Landing lightly several steps away, her lips curved faintly, remarking, "I warned them not to underestimate you two. You’d see through the poison" She let out a long sigh, before adding, "It seems I’ll have to finish this myself before King James realizes the distraction."
"Reven, are you alright?" Coryn asked her twin concern even though she could feel her wounds had already stopped bleeding, but her eyes never once left Martha.
Reven gave a short nod. The wound in her chest had already stopped bleeding, the torn flesh knitting together at a rate visible to the naked eye. It would take another half hour, perhaps an hour, to fully mend. Although she was no longer in immediate danger, the wound would still hamper her in combat, especially against an ex-knight of Martha’s caliber.
She lifted her chin and met Martha’s gaze without flinching. "Why?"
"Do you really have to ask?" Martha scoffed. "Isn’t it obvious?"
When it became clear from their expressions that the sisters truly did not understand, her disdain sharpened.
"I can accept that the King keeps you out of sentiment for Her Highness," she continued coldly. "If he wishes to raise you as cherished pets, that is his prerogative. I would support anything for my king. But to pass the crown to His Majesty’s pets..." Her jaw tightened. "As someone who once served the throne as a knight, I cannot allow it."
"Pets?" Coryn echoed, disbelief plain in her voice. Reven’s gaze darkened and pressed, "You don’t actually think of us that way, do you?"
Martha let out a short but humorless laugh, remarking in amusement, "Just because I addressed you as princesses and treated you like royalty doesn’t mean I believed you were. I did only what my king ordered me to do."
She paused abruptly, studying them more closely, a realization dawning in her eyes.
"Reven, little miss know it all," she said slowly, her tone turning almost mocking, "you’ve always been the sharper one, but buying time for your wound to heal." Her laughter rose, edged with cruelty. "How pointless."
She tilted her head, as though offering a gift, and revealed dropping her voice to a deliberate whisper, "Since you seem to crave knowledge so much, let me give you something you didn’t know. You are not King James’s daughters. You are merely an abomination he brought back on one of his trips from Zhongguo."