It was the morning of the death duel, and Valerie stood alone in the training grounds, his muscles gleaming with sweat. His once-effeminate appearance, with softer features and a leaner frame, had been replaced by a hardened, muscular physique.
His skin was bronzed from the sun, his body carved from endless hours of brutal training. This was no longer the Summer Prince who had once fawned over Islinda, dreaming of a peaceful life beside her. No, that man was long gone, replaced by a warrior determined to survive, to win, and to fight for what belonged to him.
Valerie's breath came in ragged gasps as flames erupted from his palms, scorching the target dummies beyond recognition. The air around him shimmered with heat, the acrid smell of burnt wood hanging thickly.
