Well, I am not the Queen's Rapier Champion. But that's okay, one of my "students" -- Lord Corbin de la Rue -- got the job. I may have to talk to him about his acceptance speeches, though. At least he won't have to worry about getting a sponsor for the Ladies of the Rose tourney at Gulf Wars 2006.
My class went alright, I guess. We didn't get as far as I wanted to go, since everybody scattered to find their armor when they found out that this was meant to be a practical, weapons-on sort of class. That delayed the start by almost half an hour, so we never got past the single-rapier portion of the class. C'est la vie.
The post-feast revel was predictably minimal; there were never more than six dancers, and I think we only got through five or six dances at most. Knights are supposed to be well-grounded in dance, but that's a "requirement" that obviously isn't enforced with any rigor. C'est la vie, aussi. (Ysabel is probably going to chastise me for my bad use of French when she reads this... I plead lack of practice.)
In better news, I am now apprenticed, although the formalities probably won't take place until Midwinter Arts and Sciences in the Barony of South Downs. I'll not announce the name of my gracious Laurel until things are official, but anyone who knows me personally should be able to guess in an eyeblink.
Next weekend I'll be at Crystal Ball, and I hope to see a few of my readers there. After that, I should have a couple of months off from eventing.