The Romantic Trials Of A Transmigrated Empress

Chapter 378: New Emmah, new Fox.

Roland was as drunk as a bard in a mead hall after seven rounds and one tragic ballad. When the servants brought him into the bedroom, he was sloshed, staggering and singing to Jesting about beautiful his whitish hair looked.

Jesting was mortified.

He and the servants could not hand over the crown prince soon enough to the crown princess and they could not escape fast enough after their duty was finished.

Sigrid pinched her nose when he belched and a storm’s worth of booze breath came from his mouth. She cleaned him with magic and changed his clothes. When she finally got into bed, he curled up to her like a cat seeking warmth.

"Smells good." he muttered.

Sigrid sighed. "Sleep." she patted his back gently and put him to sleep. The tiresome three days were over, it was time to rest again.

She decided to put off the plan to take on Emmah or any of the other mages that were in the empire, sniffing around for the lucky halo. Closing her eyes, she slept off.

****

For Emmah Fairfax, now known as Ciara Fox, there was no sleep that night. How could she, when training to become a female knight under Dame Amelia was a life threatening experience. All wannabe knights were entitled to only six hours of rest a day. The rest of the time was dedicated to training with little breaks to eat and catch one’s breath.

sleeping, she was facing off against five well

her bones, she readied herself for another attack. In her mind, she

hide and live like a mouse, she wanted to forge her identity in glory, living with respect. Instead of being afraid of others, they would be afraid of her. Like the old farmer that had sold her the identity of his dead daughter that had passed in the western plague.

too, leaving no traces of what

the sword by Dame Amelia’s side and challenged the law against women being knighted. She was stern and tolerated no nonsense of illusions. "We don’t have time for you to learn how

she came to Medoris, she chose silence as an armor. The less she talked, the less people tried to talk to her and

into action, coming at her one at a time, their blades like judgement. Each time she saw a flash of silver, her heart

sword at all times

sore where she had been kicked but she did not show the pain on her face. Just as she was standing, the hit of a sword hit her

said coldly, stepping

got to her feet, coughed and

next challenger Sir Muni came at her, running faster than a tiger going after prey. She was fond of twirling her sword like it was stitched to her wrist naturally. It was said that in battle, with every twirl, she took a

her sword to her neck

slow Fox." Sir

when she tried to stand out. As Ciara, in Medoris she was still being suppressed by

teeth as Sir Lucy approached slowly, sword behind her back. Sir Lucy was as broad as a bear twice as tall and equal in strength to it. With one hand, she could crush